Author: Momo Chan

My husband looks like he just went through a terrible breakup. After coming home, he sat on the sofa, staring at his phone in dead silence, his face clouded with gloom. I know his girlfriend is an absolute drama queen. Odds are, she just dumped him again. How wonderful, I couldn’t help but curl my lips into a smile. Thank goodness my boyfriend isn’t like that. 1 On the way to my prenatal checkup, Declan’s phone rang. The girl on the other end whined, demanding he come over right now. Declan glanced at me, sounding conflicted. “I’m busy right now. Can I come over a bit later?” “But my stomach hurts! I’m giving you half an hour to get here!” Declan frowned, turning to me as if struggling to find the right words. I lowered my eyes and said calmly, “Go ahead. I’ll be fine on my own.” He froze for a second, then hurriedly pulled the car over to the curb. “Be careful then. Call me if you need anything.” The black Maybach sped off. I didn’t bother watching it go, just raised my hand to hail a cab. We both knew “call me if you need anything” was just an empty courtesy. When Declan was with Blair, calling him until his phone exploded wouldn’t make a difference. Besides, it wasn’t my first time going to a prenatal checkup alone. I hailed a cab to the clinic with practiced ease. While the doctor was reviewing my ultrasound, Blair called me. “Hello?” The sound of running water echoed through the speaker. Blair’s voice dripped with undisguised provocation. “Audrey, guess what Declan is doing right now?” I remained expressionless. “Taking a shower, I assume. Waiting to finish up so he can mess around with you. What, am I part of your little roleplay now?” Blair clearly didn’t expect the legal wife to be so calm instead of sobbing hysterically. She was thrown off for a second. After a brief silence, she gritted her teeth. “You’re going to a prenatal checkup today, right? And yet, all it took was one phone call from me to drag him away.” “Audrey, don’t you think it’s pathetic for a woman to be completely unable to keep her husband’s heart?” I scoffed. “Why would I want to keep his heart? Keeping his money is enough.” “You might have his heart, but the money he spends on you is marital property. Blair, I’d advise you to play smart. If I ever get pissed off and decide to sue you, you’ll have to spit out every single dime.” She was so furious she couldn’t speak. Finally, choking on her rage, she viciously hung up. The doctor, who had been unabashedly eavesdropping, gave me an awkward smile. “Pregnant women shouldn’t get angry. You’ve got a great mindset.” I waved it off. “His little mistress tries to piss me off every single day, hoping I’ll just drop dead. I’ve built up an immunity.” “Then why are you having his baby?” I said nonchalantly, “He’s rich.” The doctor zipped her lips. I was joking, of course. This baby had nothing to do with money. When I got pregnant, I didn’t know about Blair. Back then, I naively thought a child could save my shattered marriage with Declan. It was only later I realized that a shattered mirror can’t be put back together, and spilled water can’t be gathered. Forget one kid; even if I gave birth to a whole infantry platoon, Declan wouldn’t change his mind. But that was fine. I had already found my next chapter anyway. A knock came at the door. I turned around and smiled at the man standing there, covered in sweat. Wearing a slightly wrinkled white tee and jeans, he had clearly rushed out of the house. But his face was so strikingly handsome that even his messy clothes gave off a sort of effortless, high-fashion vibe. His eyes were bright. Panting, he smiled, “I’m late.” 2 I reached out and patted his t-shirt. “You make a six-hundred-dollar shirt look like it cost six bucks. What a waste.” Nolan grabbed my hand. “I was in a rush! I ran out the door the second you texted me.” He looked down. “Oh man, I put my socks on inside out.” I couldn’t help but smile. The doctor was stunned, looking from me to Nolan and back again. I felt a little embarrassed. “Oh, this is my boyfriend.” The doctor’s mouth twitched. Nolan immediately leaned in. “Doctor, is everything okay with her checkup today?” The doctor cleared her throat and refocused. “She has slight anemia. You’ll need to pay attention to your iron levels in the later stages…” Nolan listened intently, pulling out his phone’s notepad app to jot down every detail. Whenever the doctor used medical jargon, he’d ask her to slow down and explain. By the end of it, the doctor had a complicated look on her face. “Your boyfriend is really good to you.” I nodded. “Yeah. Much better than my deadbeat husband.” On the way to drop me off at home, Nolan couldn’t help but ask: “When are you finally going to divorce him?” “Last time my parents tried to set me up on a blind date, I told them I had a girlfriend, but they didn’t believe me. They keep insisting I bring you home.” I turned to look at him. The tips of Nolan’s ears were slightly red. I just noticed how incredibly long his eyelashes were, his eyes a pure, brilliant black in the light. For no reason at all, he reminded me of the golden retriever next door, waiting for me to throw a tennis ball. I deflected, “We’ll see. I’ll get it done as soon as possible.” My meeting Nolan was quite dramatic. I had stumbled upon a thriller novel on a flight and thought it was an absolute masterpiece. I went on to read everything the author had published. The more I read, the more I was captivated by his sharp prose and wildly unpredictable plots. It just so happened that the author, who went by the pen name “Legless Bird,” was doing a book signing in the city. I went to check it out. I had assumed the author was a middle-aged man; his writing was just too mature. I never expected him to be a young man in his early twenties, and surprisingly gorgeous. With a face like that, he could have easily made it in Hollywood. That was Nolan Reed. At the signing, I casually asked, “The killer in No Spring didn’t actually murder for his mother, did he?” Nolan’s head snapped up. “You caught that?!” He excitedly started discussing the plot with me until his assistant coughed from behind him. “Nolan, there’s a huge line waiting.” Only then did Nolan reluctantly hand my book back. “Alright, thank you.” He winked at me, a sly smile flashing in his clear eyes. I opened the book. Right beneath his signature was a string of numbers. It was his phone number. … Everything after that progressed naturally. At first, we just discussed his plots. Eventually, we realized we shared a lot of the same interests. On the day he confessed his feelings to me, I hesitated before telling him about my situation. By then, Declan and I had already fallen apart. He had Blair, and we were essentially living as strangers. But I was already carrying his child. Nolan froze for a long time. He said he needed to go back and think. Three days later, just when I assumed he was going to give up, he called. “I don’t want to be the other man.” “But over the last three days, I realized… I can’t let you go.” So Declan had Blair. And I had Nolan. 3 When I got home, I found Declan sitting on the sofa, looking incredibly grim. He looked exactly like someone who just went through a terrible breakup. I instantly realized he and Blair must have gotten into another fight. Nine times out of ten, it was her classic “break up and block” routine. She had used this move a million times. Blair was Declan’s first love. She got together with him when she was 17, and they dated for five solid years. Back then, Declan wanted to marry her. He even bought the ring. But Declan’s mother fiercely opposed it. She threatened to cut him off and forced them to break up, pushing me onto him instead. I was a student sponsored by Mrs. Pierce. From the time I was 10 until I turned 18, she consistently funded my education and living expenses. Even when I went off to college, she looked after me. I was an orphan. During the holidays when I had nowhere to go, she would bring me to the Pierce estate. During my freshman year, I secured a full scholarship and started my own small business, no longer needing her financial support. But we stayed close, and I visited her every holiday with gifts. From a small convenience store funded by a student loan to eventually owning a third of the retail space in the college town, I spent two years building my business. I made over a million dollars. It was probably around that time that Mrs. Pierce saw my business acumen. Mr. Pierce had passed away in a car accident years ago, and Mrs. Pierce’s health was failing. She was constantly in and out of the hospital, deeply worried about the future of the Pierce Corporation. Declan was a classic trust-fund kid with zero business sense. Since Blair was an art major, Mrs. Pierce felt she couldn’t help the family business. She sat me down for a long talk, begging me to marry Declan and help manage the Pierce empire. I sat in silence for a long time before finally agreeing. She sponsored me for nine years; I would protect Declan and his company for nine years. After nine years, if we had a good relationship, we’d stay together. If he still didn’t love me, we’d divorce. I was 20 then. I am 29 now. … On the sofa, Declan had his black dress shirt rolled up to the elbows, his custom Italian leather shoes pristine. I frowned. “Why didn’t you take your shoes off again?” Declan snapped impatiently, “Why did you have to provoke her today?!” I finally understood. He was interrogating me over the few words I had fired back at Blair. I sneered. “Declan, did you slam your head in a door?” “She called me! The mistress got so arrogant she came to harass the wife, and instead of yelling at the instigator, you’re here yelling at me?!” “You know how she is!” Declan sounded a bit defensive, his voice dropping. “She grew up spoiled, her temper is a little explosive. What’s the big deal if you just let her have her way?” I kept a straight face. “Sorry, I’m an orphan. I never had parents to teach me how to coddle spoiled little princesses.” “If you want to be her obedient lapdog, go right ahead. I have zero interest in playing along.” Declan’s face darkened. “Do you have to speak so viciously?” I felt like saying one more word to him would spike my blood pressure and hurt the baby, so I simply slammed the bedroom door shut. Lying on the bed, I looked at my growing belly and sighed. Honestly, after finding out about Blair, I hadn’t wanted to keep this baby. But Mrs. Pierce had cried and begged me not to abort. She even shakily got out of her hospital bed to get on her knees. Without Mrs. Pierce’s sponsorship, I would probably still be stuck in a rural town, already a mother of several kids, working a dead-end factory job. She changed the entire trajectory of my life. I couldn’t say no to her. This baby was my final compromise, the ultimate repayment for her years of grace. I told her that after the baby was born, I would divorce Declan. In the living room, Declan was back on the phone, his voice soft and coaxing as he tried to pacify Blair. I covered my face with a pillow. I didn’t want to hear it. Blair was an absolute drama queen. I had heard of her infamous reputation long before she even got back with Declan. Probably spoiled rotten since childhood, she threw tantrums over everything and threatened to break up with Declan every other day. Every single time, Declan would bow his head and beg her to stay. That was another reason Mrs. Pierce refused to let them be together. The time they actually broke up was the 27th time Blair had threatened it. Declan was probably finally exhausted. Combined with his mother’s extreme ultimatums, for the first time, he didn’t beg. And just like that, they went their separate ways. Truthfully, when Declan and I first got married, I had hoped we could build a good life together. He was very handsome. Unlike Nolan’s clean, youthful vibe, Declan had a sharp, rugged attractiveness, with a hint of a bad boy edge. From the outside, you would never guess he was a hopeless romantic. For the first two years, Declan resented me, feeling I was forced onto him by his mother. But humans aren’t made of stone. Over a thousand days and nights together, his attitude toward me finally softened. At our best, I genuinely thought he had forgotten about Blair. We would hold hands in the evening to buy groceries and cook dinner together. He would book my favorite restaurant for Valentine’s Day and give me hand-picked gifts. When I woke up terrified from a nightmare, he would pull me into his arms, pat my back to soothe me, and we’d fall back asleep holding each other. There was a period I could truly call happy. I thought we were going to walk down that path forever. Until a year ago, when his attitude abruptly changed. He grew increasingly impatient with me. At first, I thought it was just the seven-year itch. When I got pregnant, I was even a little joyful, thinking the baby might mend our relationship. It was only later I found out it wasn’t the seven-year itch at all. Blair had returned. That was when I realized, from beginning to end, Declan had never let her go. Outside the door, Declan finally finished his call and pushed into the room. “She’s really mad this time. Can you just apologize to her first?” 4 For a split second, I wanted to grab the lamp on the nightstand and crack Declan’s skull open to see exactly what kind of trash was rattling around in his brain. Remembering the doctor’s advice about pregnant women staying calm, I took a deep breath, my jaw aching from clenching my teeth. “Get the hell out!” Declan frowned, his voice turning cold. “Audrey, you’re crossing the line.” “I’ll cross your damn face!” I sat up violently. “Declan, when there’s a problem at the company, you run to me. When Blair throws a tantrum, you run to me. For a grown man to live this pathetically, it’s honestly embarrassing.” I sneered, “What’s the point of you even breathing? You might as well just drop dead.” Dark currents swirled in Declan’s eyes, the veins in his forearms bulging. For a second, I thought he was going to lunge over and hit me. After a long moment, he said coldly: “Audrey, don’t regret this.” He slammed the door and stormed out. This wasn’t the first time. When Blair went abroad years ago, her father had been sent to prison for illegal fundraising. The Kensington family fell from grace. Now, Declan was the only lifeline she could cling to. But Declan was already married to me, so she was stuck playing the secret mistress. She wanted to force me to step down, so she provoked me constantly. I never humored her. Every time, I pissed her off so much she practically choked. When Declan failed to pacify her, he’d come looking for me to apologize. He knew that, out of respect for his mother, I rarely denied his requests. But over the years, I single-handedly dragged the Pierce Corporation back from the brink of bankruptcy to its current booming, ever-expanding state. It was safe to say that without me, the Pierce family would have been ruined long ago. I didn’t owe them anything anymore. … When I arrived at the office the next day, the atmosphere felt off. People walking by kept stealing glances at me, looking like they wanted to say something but didn’t. When I reached my office door, I found all my belongings thrown out, scattered haphazardly across the floor. My absolute favorite coffee mug was shattered into pieces. My face went cold. “What is the meaning of this?” Someone I completely didn’t expect pushed out of my office. Blair casually glanced at the items on the floor and scoffed. “Helping you move out. I figured it would be tough for you with that big belly, so I kindly did it for you.” I froze. “Why are you here?” Blair leaned against the doorframe, smirking. “Didn’t you know? Oh, Declan is terrible, how could he forget to tell you?” “Audrey, Declan fired you. You’re no longer the General Manager of Pierce Corp. You can pack up and get out.” Her light, airy voice struck my ears like a thunderclap. I blurted out, “Fired me?” “Then who is the new GM?” A completely absurd possibility crossed my mind, but it was so ridiculous I refused to believe it. Blair seemed to thoroughly enjoy my current expression. She walked over and flipped the nameplate on my desk. “I just casually mentioned it, and he insisted on firing you. It honestly makes me feel a little guilty.” With a mocking smile playing on her lips, she stepped up to me and whispered: “Audrey, did you really think you could keep his money?” “Let me tell you, you’re not walking away with a single cent.” This was beyond ridiculous. I turned to look at the other employees. They all looked deeply uncomfortable, but no one said a word. Right then, Declan walked over. I rushed up to him. “Declan, what is the meaning of this?!” “How can you just fire me like that?!” Declan said flatly, “I’m doing this for your own good.” “You’re heavily pregnant and everything is difficult for you. Having Blair come in to help out will let you focus on resting at home.” I stared in disbelief. “Her?!” “You’re making her the GM? She’s an art major! You’re going to destroy Pierce Corp!” “The city officials are waiting on me for the Southside development project! What happens to the project if you fire me?!” Declan crossed his arms and sneered. “Audrey, you think way too highly of yourself.” “Do you think the company stops spinning without you? Before you got here, Pierce Corp was doing just fine.” I suddenly understood. This was Declan’s retaliation for my refusing to apologize to Blair yesterday. Or maybe they had planned this all along, just waiting for the chance to tear me down. “Declan,” I said, trying to swallow my rage. “Doing this will ruin the company. You can’t be this irresponsible.” “Ruin the company?” Declan looked me up and down. “I think you just can’t bear to lose your power.” “Audrey, ever since you joined the company, everyone only knows ‘Manager Audrey’. Does anyone even remember that I’m the Chairman?!” “I think you just want to change the company name to yours!” I stared at Declan blankly. So that was it. He felt I had usurped him. But was this what I wanted? Mrs. Pierce brought me into the company specifically to protect and guide Declan. But all these years, Declan only cared about drinking, racing supercars, and partying with his trust-fund buddies. Since when did he ever care about managing the business? Even when I talked until my throat was raw, desperately begging him to learn corporate management, he just impatiently brushed me off: “If I’m doing the studying, what do I need you for?” “Didn’t my mom bring you into the company exactly so you could do the work for me?!” Left with no choice, I had to carry Pierce Corp on my own shoulders. In those years, the company was hemorrhaging money, supply chains were collapsing, and major clients were jumping ship. I was the one who stood outside clients’ doors, swallowing my pride and begging them to come back, one by one. When a client’s mother fell ill, I stayed by her hospital bed day and night for nearly a month, finally moving him enough to renew the contract. I lost 12 pounds that month. When I finally left the hospital, my clothes hung off me like a skeleton. I went out to business dinners, dealing with greasy, difficult, creepy clients. No one helped me. Sometimes when I looked back, even I couldn’t believe how I survived those years alone. It was a fact that without me, the current Pierce Corp wouldn’t exist. And now, after wringing me dry, Declan was kicking me to the curb. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud, taking a step back. “Declan, does your mother know you’re doing this?” His expression shifted slightly, then he flared up in anger. “This is my family’s business! This is my company! I don’t need to report to anyone!” Blair leaned against Declan, a smug half-smile on her face. “Audrey, who do you think you are?!” A flash of contempt crossed her eyes. “You’re just a glorified wage slave. Pack up your trash and get out!” I looked at the man in front of me, standing frozen in place. After a long moment, I smiled. “Fine, Declan.” “You win.” “I’m leaving.” 5 After leaving the company, I received countless phone calls. They were all from upper management. They explained that Declan had called an early morning meeting. They had voiced their objections, but Declan had shot them all down. I turned off my phone and wandered aimlessly down the street. As I walked, my stomach suddenly cramped. The pain quickly radiated through every bone in my body. I suddenly felt a rush of heat between my legs. I looked down. At some point, my skirt had become soaked in blood. … Before being wheeled into the operating room, the doctor told me they might not be able to save the baby. I forced myself to call Declan. Not because I harbored any hope for him, but because I had made a promise to his mother about this child. He had a right to know. “Declan, I’m at the hospital.” The pain was so intense I was almost numb. I fought to keep my voice steady, though it still trembled. “The doctor said we might lose the baby. I’m just letting you know.” Declan just sneered. “Audrey, since when did you learn to play the hysterical, suicidal wife card?” “Did you think threatening me with the baby would make me let you back in?” I silently hung up the phone. Slowly, I raised my hand and rested it on my lower abdomen. Honestly, when I first learned Blair had returned, I stopped looking forward to this baby. Sometimes, the thought even flashed through my mind that this child was a mark of shame. A constant reminder that my husband had always loved another woman. But as the days passed and I felt the baby growing inside me day by day, that magical connection of shared blood grew stronger. I had decided that if Declan didn’t want this child, I would take them away with me. This was my baby, who had kept me company for so long. I closed my eyes, and a single tear slipped down my cheek. … The first thing I saw when I woke up was Nolan’s face. He was wearing a black hoodie, looking just like a college student. He rushed over, his face etched with anxiety. “How are you? Does it hurt? Are you uncomfortable anywhere?” The nurse glanced at him. “The anesthesia hasn’t worn off yet. The pain won’t start until tonight.” I was startled. Weakly, I asked: “How did you get here?” His eyes were completely red. “My aunt is a doctor here. She saw you when we came in last time, and she just called me.” Nolan and the doctor carefully wheeled me into a recovery room. Technically, a miscarriage didn’t require a long hospital stay, but he was too worried and insisted I stay overnight for observation before going home. When I was discharged the next day, Nolan insisted I go to his house. “That guy—” he frowned. “That guy treats you horribly. He definitely won’t take care of you. You just had a miscarriage, how can you manage with no one to look after you?” I thought about it and agreed. To be honest, I rarely allowed myself to be vulnerable in this life. My survival mode kicked in much earlier and harsher than most people’s, and I had carried myself through it all. For some reason, when you’re alone, you can grit your teeth and keep moving forward. But the moment someone actually cares for you, you suddenly become fragile. I really didn’t want to go back to that massive house where I’d be all alone.

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When my billionaire parents chose the fake heiress once again and refused to visit me in the hospital, I finally gave up. “System,” I whispered, “let the cancer cells spread. I’m ready to leave this body.” As my soul drifted away, I heard them talking. “If Serena hadn’t warned us, I wouldn’t have known our biological daughter was faking an illness just for attention! How low can she get?” “Let’s not contact her for a few months. She needs to learn her lesson. Maybe then she’ll finally start behaving.” Behaving? Too bad I’m already dead. 1 The hospital walls were too white. So white they made my eyes ache. I sat by the window where a sliver of sunlight managed to peek through, yet I couldn’t shake the freezing chill that wrapped around my bones. “Miss Sterling, please lie down. It’s time for your IV.” My private nurse pushed the door open, her voice soft and careful. It was strange. I was the biological daughter of the richest man in the city. I was in a premier VIP suite. So why was there such deep pity in her eyes when she looked at me? “Nurse Thompson, did you tell my parents the biopsy results?” Her hand faltered for a second, nearly missing the vein. She offered me a weak, forced smile. “Don’t worry. Even though the tumor is malignant, we caught it early. With surgery and two rounds of chemo, you’ll recover.” “Don’t be afraid.” I nodded, then repeated my question, more urgent this time. “But… did you notify my parents?” Nurse Thompson opened her mouth, then closed it, looking like the words were stuck in her throat. I understood. There was no way she hadn’t told them. It was just that they chose not to come. Before leaving, she tried to cheer me up. “Don’t lose heart. The cancer hasn’t metastasized yet. Your condition is very treatable.” I forced a smile but said nothing. The cancer hadn’t spread yet, but when I transmigrated into this body, I came with a “System” mission. If I couldn’t win over my parents’ love, my only ending was death. I leaned greedily toward the patch of sunlight. This cancer was the System’s countdown timer. If things continued like this—I was truly running out of time. 2 The original owner of this body was the true heiress of the Sterling family. She had been switched at birth due to a hospital error and grew up in a middle-class family. It wasn’t until she turned 18, just a year ago, that she was finally found. At first, I thought this System mission would be easy. What parents wouldn’t love their own child? But after coming home, I realized how cruel reality could be. There was another “Miss Sterling” in the house, born on the exact same day as me. The fake heiress: Serena. Initially, my parents were wonderful. They cried while holding me, calling me their “precious girl” in every breath. Within three months, I had successfully won them over. I was the apple of their eye. I even charmed the grandparents and extended family. Of course, I also managed to dodge Serena’s constant, petty traps. Until one day, she pulled me close with a sisterly grin to show me around. “Maya, look. This is Dad’s private wine cellar.” “Every bottle here is priceless. You have to be extremely careful.” I never touched that room. But a month later, my parents went to Serena’s parent-teacher conference. When they returned, Serena looked at me, smiled, and threw herself into the custom wine rack. The entire unit toppled. With a deafening crash, it shattered at my feet. Glass shards pierced my soles, drawing blood. The wine soaked my clothes, stinging my open wounds with a blinding pain. But a second later, Serena was the one screaming. “Dad! Mom!” “Serena! What happened?” My parents, arriving a few steps late, were stunned by the wreckage. I stood in the middle of the glass, frozen. Serena pointed at me, sobbing. “Maya was jealous because you went to my conference today.” “She pushed me. I hit the rack, and it just… it all fell…” I found out later that the wine on that wall was worth as much as a luxury villa. 3 That was the fifth month after I returned home. My father slapped me, hard. He did it because Serena had dropped to her knees in the middle of the wreckage right in front of them. She looked up with tear-filled eyes. “Maya, Mom and Dad still love you most. They just went to my school for an hour.” “I don’t want to fight with you. If you hate what happened in the past, hate me, but please don’t blame Mom and Dad. We’re all victims here.” “If you really can’t stand me, I’ll leave!” I watched her one-woman show in shock. Before I could even open my mouth to defend myself, the slap landed. Then came my father’s roar. “Maya! Is this how your foster parents raised you?” “You act so sweet to Serena in front of us, but you’re a monster behind our backs. You’ve deeply disappointed me.” I tried to explain, but no one listened. Because Serena’s knees were shredded by the glass. My father scooped her up and rushed her to the hospital. I was left to limp out of the glass in my slippers, one agonizing step at a time. I treated my own wounds in my room, gritting my teeth against the pain. When Serena returned, both her knees were wrapped in thick bandages. My parents flanked her, supporting her every move while treating me with nothing but cold glares. “Maya, go to your room and reflect on what you’ve done.” “Serena might not be our biological daughter, but we raised her for 18 years. Do you think that bond just disappears?” “Don’t think we don’t love you. It’s because we love you that we can’t let you become this twisted! We have to correct you!” I tried to speak, but the pain in my feet made me gasp for air. “Maya, stop the act.” “You were wearing slippers earlier. We both saw it.” I knew words were useless, so I retreated to my bedroom. But because of the pain, I couldn’t help but limp. In their eyes, even my pain was just another act of defiance. 4 Serena was willing to hurt herself just to turn them against me. Gradually, in their eyes, I became a person who would do anything to get what I wanted. The three of them were always together, leaving me alone at home. Their excuse? “It’s to build your character and teach you tolerance.” That was when the System’s punishments began. The data showed that my parents’ hearts were tilting further and further toward Serena. Desperate to save my failing health, I tried to fight back once. I got into a physical altercation with a girl at school who was insulting me. We both ended up bruised; I had a split lip. My parents rushed to the school. That was one of the few times I felt their love. “Maya, what happened? Does it hurt?” “Sweetie, she’s so much bigger than you. Why would you fight her?” My mother stroked my hair, her eyes full of heartbreak. My father stood in front of me, berating the principal for the lack of supervision. “Mom, I’m okay.” With red eyes, I let her pull me into her arms. See? They still love me. But then, Serena arrived. In front of everyone, she looked at me with a look of pure, feigned disbelief. “Maya… did you lie and pick a fight just to get Mom and Dad’s attention?” With just one sentence, their faces changed. They didn’t defend me anymore. They just turned and walked away. I touched my stinging lip. It was the other girl who had started it, calling me the “unwanted daughter.” To prove my innocence, I convinced the girl I fought to testify for me. I even asked my teacher to come home with us. “Mr. Sterling, we cleared it up. It really wasn’t Maya’s fault.” But my parents only looked at me with utter exhaustion. “Maya Sterling, have you really stooped to this level just to maintain a lie?” Their tone was ice-cold. In my mind, the System’s alarm bells began to shriek. 5 From that point on, my health plummeted. But I stopped fighting. No matter how badly I was hurt, Serena could erase it all with a single, casual comment, and I would end up as the villain again. I lay in bed and whispered to the System. “System, when can I go back to my own world?” The System’s voice was low, sounding almost empathetic to my struggle. “Finish the mission, or die.” I was silent for a long time. I had thought about it… If I die, I die. But I really wanted to go home. Lately, afraid I would “hurt” their precious foster daughter, my parents kept me on house arrest. At first, they visited me every day. But the look in their eyes was always a mess of complicated emotions, always ending with the same question: “Maya, do you admit you were wrong?” I shook my head stubbornly. Wrong about what? After asking enough times, they lost their patience. When I finally collapsed at home and was rushed to the hospital, they were away on vacation. They didn’t even bother to check on me. Instead, they sent a text: “Maya, come home when you’re ready to admit your mistakes.” “We won’t enable this behavior anymore.” I laughed. From start to finish, what was my crime? Oh, I knew. My crime was that I wasn’t good enough to earn their favoritism. Did they love me? I guess the only way to find out was to die. 6 I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. The nurse told me not to lose hope; early-stage stomach cancer was very treatable. But I just stared at the ceiling, watching my life’s countdown. I lived alone in that massive VIP suite. It was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat. My only companion was the System I had grown to both love and hate. “Maya, do you think they’re really not coming?” I leaned against the headboard, my eyes vacant. “Probably.” “They don’t even believe I’m sick. They wouldn’t even believe the doctor.” The System sighed. I just smiled. Good. It’s better to give up early. After a moment of silence, the System tried one last time. “Call them.” “Otherwise, even if you have the surgery, the cancer will metastasize rapidly.” I bit my lip and dialed the number. But—Serena was the one who picked up. Compared to my hollow, weak voice, she sounded incredibly vibrant. “Maya? What is it?” “Are you looking for Dad? Hang on, he’s out surfing.” The System: “What? His daughter is dying and he’s surfing?” “That’s impossible.” I listened silently to the sound of the waves on the other end. Daughter? In their hearts, they only ever had one daughter: Serena. 7 I waited ten full minutes before my father finally got on the line. But before I could even say “Dad,” his stern voice boomed through the speaker. “Maya, have you finally realized you were wrong?” I let out a bitter, silent laugh. I guess the “jealous brat” label would only be washed away once I was in the ground. “Maya, enough of the drama. Admit you were wrong and come home.” “You’re going too far now, actually making the hospital staff call your mother. Do you have any idea how close she came to a panic attack? If Serena hadn’t seen through your little game, we would have been worried sick!” I opened my mouth, but the words were choked in my throat. Seeing my silence, his tone softened slightly. “Maya, as long as you come home and apologize, you’re still our daughter.” Our daughter… I whispered, “Dad, what if I’m actually sick?” There was a long pause on the other end. Then I heard Serena’s voice in the background: “Sigh. Dad, Maya just won’t change, will she?” “EXACTLY!” My father’s rage exploded. “Maya Sterling! Who taught you to be such a pathological liar?!” The line went dead. This time, even the System was silent. The sun moved to the west, and the light vanished from my room. Why? Was the love and guilt they showed me six months ago all an act? Maybe because I was too quiet, the System whispered a warning: “A negative mood isn’t conducive to recovery.” I grinned. Recovery? What was left to recover? “Just go home and apologize. Keep your head down for now. You have to survive to win.” And then what? Continue to play games with Serena? Apologize for things I didn’t do? Listen to their “lessons” for the rest of my life? I’d rather die. I lay back on the bed, a single thought flashing through my mind. “System, let the cancer spread.” “I forfeit the mission.” The System became deathly serious. “Are you sure?” “If you forfeit, you will be forced to remain in this world as a ghost for ten years as a penalty.” I agreed. I really wanted to see how they would react once I was gone. 8 With the System’s power, the cancer cells flooded every organ in my body overnight. When I woke up the next morning, I was so weak I couldn’t even lift my hand. “Maya, it’s not too late to regret this.” I closed my eyes. A silent refusal. When Nurse Thompson came for her rounds, she was so shocked she dropped the IV bag. “Doctor! Code blue!” She ran out, followed by a chaotic blur of footsteps. A team of doctors swarmed the room, checking my vitals. I was hooked up to a dozen different tubes. “How? Yesterday there was no metastasis. How could this happen in a single night?” Nurse Thompson gripped my hand, her eyes blood-red. Honestly, I didn’t understand why she was so good to me. As a stranger, she had given me far more than my own parents ever had. The doctor shone a light into my pupils. “The will to live is non-existent.” “Notify the family immediately.” I struggled to open my eyes and saw Nurse Thompson pull the doctor aside. Even though my consciousness was fading, I could still hear them. “Dr. Young, the family refused to come…” “Refused?!” The doctor’s voice rose, then dropped into a low, urgent tone. “Give me their number.” “The patient could go at any second. They must be informed.” I fought to stay awake. Maybe… just maybe I could last until they arrived. I wanted to see their faces when they saw me. Regret? Or total indifference? 9 I waited and waited, slipping in and out of consciousness. In my dreams, I could hear the frantic voices of doctors and nurses. When I finally opened my eyes, the first thing I did was look at the chair beside my bed. It was empty. “How many days?” In this vast world, only the System remained by my side. “Three days.” A single tear rolled down my cheek. Three days, and they still hadn’t come. I tried to wipe the tear, but I couldn’t move my arm. I think I’m done. The monitors beside the bed began a sharp, rhythmic beeping. The hospital’s final alarm. I saw a group of doctors rush in to start resuscitation. I watched them frantically compress my chest. They were still trying to save me. But it was too late. I felt myself float upward. With the final long beep, I was completely detached from my body. Two minutes later, the lead doctor looked defeated. “Patient: Maya Sterling. Time of death: April 28, 2023, at 9:03 AM.” I saw Nurse Thompson turn away to wipe her eyes. The System teased me: “See? You weren’t a total failure.” “At least someone cried for you.” I felt a pang of sadness. I tried to wipe her tears, but my hand was only a breeze that ruffled her hair. 10 By the time I found my parents, they were just returning from their vacation. I could feel it; even the System was in a foul mood. “Maya, I’m sorry.” I sat casually on the steps of the Sterling mansion, dusting off my invisible skirt. “This family is trash.” “I’m sorry I threw you into this pit.” I just smiled and said nothing. I had cursed this System a thousand times in my head before. But I realized we were bound together. Over time, she had developed something resembling human emotion. In the living room, Serena was showing off her new designer dresses. My parents sat patiently, watching her model the last one, their eyes full of warmth and smiles. Until—the hospital called again. “Hello? When is this going to end?” “How much did Maya pay you? I’ll double it. You’re doctors, for God’s sake. How can you lie like this?!” I couldn’t hear the doctor’s side, but my father started laughing. “You really don’t even have a script for these lies anymore, do you?” “Tell Maya: if she isn’t home in three days, she’s never allowed back…” The line clicked. My father was fuming. “He hung up on me!” “What did they say? What is Maya up to now?” My father slammed his phone onto the table. “Her lies are getting more and more unhinged. She just had someone call me and say she died of cancer.” My mother’s brow furrowed. “Maya… it has been a few days since we heard from her.” “I’ll give her a call.” But as my mother reached for her phone, Serena cut in. “But didn’t Maya call a couple of days ago and say it was early stage?” “How could it suddenly…” The couple exchanged a look, and a wave of shared annoyance crossed their faces. “Serena is right.” “What kind of cancer spreads that fast?” “If Serena hadn’t warned us, I wouldn’t have known our biological daughter was faking an illness just for attention! How low can she get?” “Let’s not contact her for a few months. She needs to learn her lesson. Maybe then she’ll finally start behaving.” Behaving? But I’m already dead. Serena hid a smirk, then reached out to tug on my mother’s arm. “Mom, Maya just wants your attention.” “Maybe you should call her anyway.” My father slammed the table. “NO CALLS!” I sat on the steps, propping my chin on my hands and sighing. If they wait any longer, there won’t even be a body to find.

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After breaking up with my secretly wealthy ex-boyfriend, I quickly got together with his adoptive father. Not long after, I found myself sitting at their family dinner table. Right across from me was my ex and his new flavor of the month. Smiling sweetly, I picked up a piece of green bell pepper and dropped it right into Logan’s bowl. Everyone knew it was the one vegetable he absolutely despised. I looked at his new girl and casually mentioned that since she called Sebastian her step-dad, she ought to start calling me step-mom. I even made her an offer. Fifty grand if she called me Mom once. Half a million if she said it ten times. Hearing this, Logan slammed his hands on the table and shot up from his chair. He furiously demanded to know who the hell I thought I was, screaming that since his dad had not said a word, I had no right to order his girlfriend around. I simply shifted my gaze to the man sitting beside me. Sebastian was slowly chewing his food, not even bothering to lift his eyes. I gave a thoughtful nod, reached into my purse, and tossed a crumpled medical bill onto the table. The moment Logan’s new girlfriend saw that paper, all the color drained from her face. She grabbed Logan’s sleeve, her voice trembling with tears, and begged him to just call me Mom. I was twenty-two, and Logan was eighteen. I had been forced to drink until I blacked out. When I woke up, my head was splitting, and I was completely naked. Logan was sitting on the edge of the bed smoking a cigarette, his jacket draped over his shoulders. He did not even bother to look back at me. “You were the one begging for it last night.” My brain was a hazy mess. I had zero recollection of what happened, but the guilt crushed me. I immediately apologized. “I am so sorry. What do you want? Anything I can do to make this right, I will do it.” Logan thought about it for a second. He told me to become his girlfriend to compensate for taking his virginity. I nodded and agreed. My shifts at the campus bar were not enough to cover both my living expenses and Logan’s tuition and allowance, so I picked up a second job working the day shift as a cashier at a convenience store. I was working two jobs, running myself into the ground. To be closer to his dorm, I rented a cramped, overpriced room in a rundown apartment building near his university. On my one rare day off, I took Logan out on a date. By the time we got back to my apartment, it was already ten at night. My roommate, Sierra, was just heading out for her night shift. She rolled her eyes the second she saw me. “Was that your boyfriend downstairs? Looks like a broke loser, just like you.” “Unlike me. I just met a trust-fund kid a couple of days ago. He tipped me a thousand bucks without blinking.” When I ignored her, she scoffed. “Forget it. Trying to talk sense into your thick skull is a waste of time. Those rich guys and corporate billionaires are incredibly easy to please. Keep your mouth sweet, act a little submissive, and stroke their egos. That is how you get paid.” “If one of them actually takes an interest in you, even if you are just his side piece, you are still set for life.” I ignored her. Most of my paychecks went straight into Logan’s bank account. Whenever we had our weekend dates, he would press his lips against mine and whisper sweet promises. “Do not worry, Ivy. Once I graduate, we will get married, and it will be my turn to take care of you.” His long fingers would roam over my body, the air in the room turning heavy and hot, but we never went all the way again. I always assumed it was because our first time was so traumatic. I thought I had forced myself on him, leaving him with emotional baggage. I buttoned up my coat and walked him back to his dorm. Just as I turned to leave, I heard his frat brother laugh and ask who I was. Logan’s voice drifted out, casual and annoyed. “Her? Just some desperate stalker who will not leave me alone. She is so annoying.” Lately, Sierra had been acting incredibly anxious. When I walked into the apartment, I caught her aggressively taping up a shipping box containing the heavy gold bracelet her sugar daddy had bought her a few days ago. “Gold prices are tanking right now. Why not wait a few weeks? You could get a lot more for it,” I asked, setting down my cheap takeout box. “I will sell my stuff whenever I damn well please. Mind your own business.” Her eyes darted to my dinner, and a nasty smirk crossed her face. “You should spend more time worrying about your little boy toy. I heard his frat is throwing a massive party at the club downtown tonight. Do you have a night shift? With a pretty face like his, if you do not keep him on a tight leash, some rich girl is going to snatch him right up.” Seeing me freeze, Sierra paused. “…Wait, do not tell me he did not even invite you?” Logan and I had been together for three years. He usually played the role of the sweet, obedient boyfriend, but I constantly worried about him. Ironically, we had met at a bar, so I knew exactly what happened at those parties. I called my manager, faked a sick leave, and rushed to the club. Standing outside the VIP room, I leaned in to peek through the glass. Before I could, the heavy door swung open. Logan’s frat brother stumbled out, completely wasted, squinting at me in the dim light. “Oh, you are… Logan’s stalker, right? Looking for him?” I ignored the insult, trying to look past him into the booth. “Do not bother looking. Logan is not here. He does not even live in the dorms. Why would he waste his time slumming it at a frat mixer?” “He does not live in the dorms?” That was impossible. “You really are clueless, aren’t you?” The guy looked me up and down with obvious disgust. “Everyone on campus knows Logan’s family is loaded. You are out here flipping burgers and scrubbing floors, thinking you can bag a billionaire heir? Keep dreaming, sweetheart.” My heart plummeted into my stomach. An hour later, I was standing outside the gates of the most exclusive luxury high-rise in the city, getting aggressively blocked by a security guard. “I said no entry. I see girls like you showing up in the middle of the night all the time. If you go in there and cause a scene, I am the one who gets fired!” While we were arguing, the roar of an engine cut through the night. A sleek, limited-edition sports car pulled up ten feet away. Logan hopped out of the driver’s seat, laughing and dapping up his wealthy friends before they drove off. Still smiling, Logan turned around and locked eyes with me. His grin vanished instantly. “Ivy… I thought you had a shift tonight?” “This is my friend’s place. I was just visiting,” Logan lied, his voice tight. “Stop lying.” I took a step forward, my anger boiling over. “That jacket you are wearing? The watch on your wrist? I have never seen them before. You are rich. You can afford to live in a place like this. So why the hell have you been bleeding me dry for three thousand bucks a month? Why did you play the pathetic, broke victim for three years?” For three years, I gave up any semblance of a normal life. I lived in a roach-infested shoebox. I ran between two exhausting jobs and survived on four hours of sleep. I gave up all my weekends just to take him on dates, and I paid for every single movie ticket and dinner. If the food was not expensive enough, he would throw a tantrum. My eyes burned, and tears of pure frustration spilled over. Logan lunged forward, wrapping his arms around me. The harder I pushed, the tighter he held on. “Ivy, I am so sorry. I was just terrified you would freak out if you knew the truth. I was planning to reveal everything on your birthday. It was supposed to be a massive surprise.” He was still lying to my face, and I genuinely could not comprehend what he gained from this twisted game. But the crushing heartbreak suddenly gave way to razor-sharp clarity. He wanted to put on a show? Fine. I would play along. I wanted to see exactly how far Logan was willing to take this. So, as he spouted his hollow excuses, I slowly nodded. And Logan actually bought it. He faked a relieved smile and kissed the corner of my mouth. “Ivy, I knew you loved me too much to stay mad.” That night, I slept in Logan’s sprawling, multi-million-dollar penthouse. When we walked through the lobby the next morning, the same security guard practically bowed to me. “Have a wonderful day, Miss.” The following day, Logan handed me a platinum card with two million dollars loaded onto it. For the first time in my life, I walked straight into a luxury designer boutique. “Box this up.” The sales associate completely ignored me, continuing to fold scarves. I slammed the platinum card onto the glass display. “I said, box it up.” The associate’s demeanor flipped instantly, flashing me a brilliant, obsequious smile. I returned to my crappy apartment carrying a mountain of designer shopping bags. Sierra nearly choked on her water. “Where the hell did you get the money for that? Did you finally bag a sugar daddy?” I threw myself onto the cheap sofa and opened a real estate app to browse luxury apartments. “My boyfriend.” “You dumped the broke college kid?” “Nope.” Sierra shrieked. “He is a trust-fund baby?! Are you kidding me? How did you get that lucky?” I let out a dark, self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah. So lucky.” I walked into my room, packed my bags, and moved out of that miserable apartment forever. The night before my twenty-fifth birthday, I got a call. Logan was wasted and demanded I come pick him up. It was pouring rain outside. My umbrella was useless against the wind, and by the time I reached the upscale restaurant, my clothes were soaked through. I stood outside the private dining room, raising my hand to knock, when a burst of obnoxious laughter echoed through the wood. “I officially won the bet, right? I dated that bartender for three whole years! I played the broke college kid, drained her bank account, and the stupid bitch was still totally obsessed with me! I told you guys, women are all gold-diggers. Give them enough money, and you can make them do whatever you want.” It was Logan. My hand froze mid-air as a chorus of mocking voices joined in. “Logan is the absolute king! Rich or poor, he gets the job done. Fair is fair, the keys to the Porsche will be at your house tomorrow.” “You gotta admit though, that bartender’s body is insane. When I dragged him to your bed that first night, I copped a feel. Her waist and ass are top-tier. You got lucky, bro.” “Whoa, chill. I never actually slept with her. That one-night stand was completely staged just to trap her into dating me. You know how strict my family is. If I accidentally knocked up some trashy nobody, I would be cut off.” “Smart move, man. Escorts like her are just for practice anyway. When it is time to settle down, you have to marry someone from our tax bracket.” My fists clenched so hard my nails dug into my palms. I kicked the door open with a deafening crash. The room went dead silent. Logan, his face flushed with alcohol, stared at me in shock. “What are you doing here?” I plastered a sickeningly sweet smile on my face. “I heard you had too much to drink. I came to take you home.” I dragged Logan’s drunk weight back to the penthouse and dumped him on the bed. He passed out immediately. Grabbing a cold beer from the fridge, I sat alone on the balcony. The things they said were vile, but surprisingly, I felt absolutely nothing. Because I never actually loved Logan. Our entire relationship was built on the crushing guilt I felt over taking his ‘virginity’. Since he faked the whole thing, the debt was wiped clean. I owed him nothing. In fact, he owed me three years of my youth. I pulled a crumpled piece of paper from my pocket. It was a private phone number I had secretly copied from Logan’s phone—the number of his legal guardian. The phone rang three times before a deep, irritated voice answered. “Who is this?” He sounded like a man who was very unhappy about being woken up in the middle of the night. “Mr. Sebastian Vance, I am Logan’s girlfriend. I am pregnant. I need to meet with you tomorrow. Does that work for you?” I lied through my teeth without missing a beat. “Why the hell should I believe you?” I let out a soft laugh and switched to a video call, panning the camera over Logan’s passed-out face in the moonlight. “If you refuse, I cannot guarantee your golden boy will wake up in one piece. I am sure his heroic late parents would not want anything bad to happen to their only son, right?” Sebastian Vance was a notoriously ruthless corporate titan. Anyone who dared threaten him usually had a team of private security kicking their door down within thirty minutes. I swallowed hard, trying to hide my terror. The line was dead silent for a long time. Finally, the man sighed. “Fine. Meet me at the Jade Garden tomorrow.” When Logan finally woke up, I was calmly setting out a massive breakfast spread on the dining table. He leaned against the doorframe, a nasty sneer on his face. “You heard everything last night, did you not? Why are you still here? Who are you putting on this pathetic housewife act for?” “Do not think I am going to pity you. The bet is over. I am done playing house with you.” I completely ignored him, sitting down to eat my eggs. Logan laughed maliciously. He pulled out a chair across from me and kicked his feet up on the table. “Playing deaf? Fine. I will make sure you get the message.” He pulled out his phone, dialed a number, and instantly switched to a sickeningly sweet voice. “Baby, I am sending you my address right now. Come over, I have a massive surprise waiting for you. Love you.” Hanging up, he immediately ordered a bouquet of 999 premium roses on a delivery app. He cranked the volume on his video game to the max, glaring at me every few seconds to see if I was crying yet. I acted like he did not exist, calmly stood up, and started washing the dishes. The second I finished, the doorbell rang. Before Logan could even stand up, I beat him to the door and yanked it open. Sierra was standing on the doorstep, dripping in head-to-toe designer labels. The moment she saw me, her perfectly manicured eyebrow arched. “Well, well. If it isn’t Ivy, the girl who bagged a billionaire. What are you doing in my boyfriend’s apartment?” Logan shoved me out of the way, pulling Sierra inside. “I got black-out drunk a few years ago and accidentally touched this club waitress. She has been stalking me ever since. You know her?” Sierra let out a mocking laugh. “We do not know each other. I just saw her serving drinks at a dive bar across town.” “I knew it.” Logan pulled out the massive bouquet of roses he had ordered. “There is no way a high-class girl like you would associate with trash like her.” The two of them treated me like invisible air, aggressively flirting back and forth before collapsing onto the sofa, practically making out. I stood a few feet away, entirely unfazed, casually pulling out my phone. I snapped a crystal-clear photo of them swapping spit, then slipped the phone back into my pocket. “Ivy, I already have a fiancé. Sierra’s family runs a massive international conglomerate. She just moved back from Europe. We belong to the same social class, so just give up.” “Keep the money I gave you. Consider it a tip for your services. We are done.” “No,” I said flatly. “Unless you wire me another five million, I am not leaving.” Before Logan could even react, Sierra leaped off the couch and slapped me hard across the face. My cheek burned instantly. I glared at her, but she violently shoved me backward. I tripped and fell hard onto the floor. “Ivy, stop being a greedy, delusional bitch!” She grabbed the massive bouquet and started hurling the heavy roses at me, snapping the stems against my skin. “A useless, pathetic loser like you deserves absolutely nothing!” “Five million? In your dreams. Do you even know who Logan’s guardian is? Sebastian Vance. Say one wrong word to the press, and he will have you erased before dinner.” Slam! The heavy oak door was violently shut in my face. Sitting on the floor of the hallway, rubbing my stinging cheek, I suddenly started laughing. Logan faked being poor to scam me out of my money, only to get scammed by a fake heiress pretending to be rich. Karma really was a bitch. My phone buzzed in my pocket. “Hello, Miss Ivy? This is Mr. Vance’s driver. I am pulling up to the lobby now. You can come down.” It was my first time sitting in a customized Maybach. When I arrived at the Jade Garden, Sebastian had already ordered. The table was covered in the most aggressively spicy, heavy dishes imaginable. Two glasses of expensive liquor sat in the center. Sebastian pushed one of the glasses toward me. “Drink.” I did not move. He chuckled, picking up his own glass and taking a slow sip. “Drink it, Miss Ivy. I had my team run a sweep. You have absolutely zero medical records at any OBGYN in the state, and no pharmacy records of buying pregnancy tests.” “I think it is safe to assume you are not pregnant.” Sebastian was thirty-four. A relatively young age in the cutthroat corporate world, yet he held absolute, terrifying control over the entire Vance empire. A few hours was more than enough time for him to strip my entire life bare. Everything I knew about Sebastian came from two sources. First, networking with high-end escorts at the luxury clubs I visited after Logan gave me the black card. Second, vague complaints Logan used to make when he was drunk. Sebastian was an illegitimate child, utterly despised by his aristocratic family. He spent his childhood being viciously bullied by his half-siblings. When he was sixteen, they pushed him into a freezing, rushing river and walked away, leaving him to drown. Logan’s mother, Officer Morgan, was walking by with her husband. Logan’s father dove into the freezing rapids and managed to shove Sebastian to the riverbank, but the current dragged him under. He never resurfaced. Logan was three years old. Two years later, Officer Morgan was killed in the line of duty. Logan’s greedy relatives swarmed like vultures to steal her pension, completely abandoning Logan. By then, an eighteen-year-old Sebastian had brutally seized power within the Vance family. He crushed all opposition, legally adopted Logan, and became his sole guardian. Did Sebastian actually love Logan? Absolutely not. Everything Sebastian did was driven by a heavy, suffocating guilt toward the people who died to save him. He provided Logan with unlimited wealth and protection. He had more than repaid his debt. I picked up the glass of liquor and threw it back like a shot. The alcohol burned my throat. “Logan told me he is marrying a European heiress named Sierra. Why did you not stop him?” I asked. “He is an adult. We share no blood, and legally, he is not my responsibility anymore. I do not care who he marries.” Sebastian smiled lazily. “But instead of talking in circles, why do you not get to the point?” I took a deep breath. “If Logan keeps acting like a degenerate psychopath, he is going to destroy Officer Morgan’s legacy. You do not step in because he constantly weaponizes his parents’ death to guilt-trip you.” “But I have zero emotional baggage with him. On top of that, he scammed me out of three years of my life. Nobody knows exactly how to break him better than I do.” “I read the financial reports. The Vance board of directors is pressuring you to get married to stabilize the stock. Let us sign a contract. A fake marriage.” Sebastian raised a sharp eyebrow. “You have guts, I will give you that. Coming into my territory and actively plotting revenge against my ward.” He stood up. The sheer physical presence of the man made me instinctively shrink back, a cold shiver running down my spine. I was gambling with my life. If I won, I would get everything I wanted. If I lost, the absolute worst-case scenario was going back to scrubbing floors. I had already hit rock bottom. I had nothing to lose. His deep, freezing voice dropped from above me. “But I have to admit, I am extremely curious to see exactly how you plan to discipline my deadbeat son.” “Come home for dinner tonight, Mrs. Vance.” I won. Sebastian moved with terrifying efficiency. An hour later, holding a freshly stamped marriage certificate, I was sitting in his car heading toward his sprawling private estate. On the way, his phone rang. He casually tapped the speakerphone button. “Hey Dad, I am bringing my new fiancée home for dinner tonight. Figured it was time you met her.” “Fine.” Sebastian’s dark eyes slid over to me. “Perfect timing. I just got my marriage certificate. There is someone I want you to meet as well.” Before Logan could ask a single question, Sebastian hung up. The estate was obscenely massive. A butler in a tailored suit respectfully took my cheap duffel bag and carried it up to the master suite. Sebastian led me down a different hall and opened the double doors to a walk-in closet the size of my old apartment. Racks of pristine, haute couture dresses lined the walls. “Pick one.” I pulled out a soft pink silk gown. The fabric felt like water. In twenty-five years, I had never touched anything so expensive. “Do you have a secret girlfriend? Do not worry, once the contract expires, I will sign the divorce papers immediately. I won’t ruin your actual relationship.” “I do not have one.” “Then who are these for?” I turned around. Sebastian was leaning against the doorframe, his face blank. “There is no other woman. I just had my assistant buy a wardrobe based on your measurements this afternoon. If my staff could not handle a basic task like that, I would fire them.” He paused, then added defensively, “If I actually had a girlfriend, why the hell would I fake a marriage with you?” I snorted, covering my mouth to hide a laugh. For a guy who looked like a literal mafia boss, his personality was surprisingly petty. I picked a sleek, understated black dress and applied the absurdly expensive makeup he had provided. Standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, I actually gasped. Money really was magic. The exhausted, overworked barista was gone. Staring back at me was a polished, dangerous socialite. “Are you ready? Logan is pulling up to the gates.” “Coming.” I walked out of the closet. Sebastian’s gaze dropped from his Rolex to me. He froze completely still. “Is it… too much?” I asked, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “It looks good.” He quickly averted his eyes, clearing his throat. “Let’s go down. They are waiting.” “Dad! Where have you been? My fiancée has been waiting out here. You are being totally disrespectful to her—” Logan was lounging on the imported Italian leather sofa, his arm draped possessively around Sierra. Sierra was picking nervously at her nails, looking absolutely terrified to be in Sebastian’s house. Seeing Sebastian and I walking down the grand staircase, fingers tightly laced together, Logan’s voice died in his throat. He shot to his feet. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I lifted my chin. Sebastian remained completely silent. I knew the rules. From this second forward, Sebastian was not going to fight my battles for me. “Why shouldn’t I be here?” I held out my free hand. The butler immediately stepped forward, placing the red marriage booklet onto my palm. I flipped it open, shoving the stamped photo right into Logan’s face. “I am Sebastian’s legally wedded wife. That makes me your stepmother. Watch your tone when you speak to your elders, Logan.” “Bullshit! Where did you get a fake ID printed so fast? Dad, say something!” Logan looked panicked, desperately searching Sebastian’s face for a denial. Sebastian ignored him completely and walked straight to the dining table. Because we had guests, the private chef had prepared a massive feast. My eyes immediately locked onto a sizzling plate of spicy green bell peppers. Technically, this dish should never have been served, since Logan threw a fit whenever he smelled them. I threw a quick glance at Sebastian. He was hiding a smirk behind his water glass. The man was petty as hell.

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I decided to stop by my fiancée’s corporate headquarters to pick her up and surprise her for her birthday. As I stepped out of the elevator, a young man I’d never met blocked my way. He was her new personal assistant. With a flat expression, he told me that meeting the CEO required an appointment scheduled forty-eight hours in advance. He even took the homemade birthday cake I was carrying, calling it an “unidentified high-calorie food item” that broke office policy. I couldn’t believe it. I took out my phone and called my fiancée’s private number. The call connected, but the voice that answered belonged to the assistant standing right in front of me. He said, his tone full of contempt, that a man who spent all day revolving around a woman was a pathetic simp and deeply unmanly. Later, I confronted my fiancée. She dismissed it completely, saying her assistant was just being professional and enforcing boundaries. She told me not to be so sensitive. In that moment, I knew I had nothing left to say to her. I quietly took out my phone and texted my mother, telling her to cancel the $500 million joint venture with the Sullivan family immediately. My reasoning was simple: I wanted to learn how to keep strict professional boundaries, too. After all, for some people, investing real emotion and money in a woman is clearly just bad for business. 1 It was Victoria Sullivan’s birthday. Carrying a cake I had spent hours baking myself, I drove to her company to pick her up, hoping to give her a sweet surprise. I never expected what happened next. The second I stepped into the elevator, someone literally shoved me back out into the lobby. Victoria’s new executive assistant, Liam Pierce, stood there in a sharp suit. Using an incredibly cold, corporate tone, he looked at me and said, “Apologies. This is the private executive elevator. Unauthorized personnel are strictly forbidden from riding it.” His voice echoed through the lobby. Employees and clients immediately turned to stare at me. Feeling my face heat up, I opened my mouth to explain who I was. He did not even let me speak. Flipping open his leather portfolio, he continued, “Mr. Sterling, I am well aware you are Ms. Sullivan’s fiancé. However, you are not on the CEO’s itinerary for today.” “Anyone wishing to see the CEO must submit a request to my office forty-eight hours in advance for approval and scheduling.” “This is the new company policy. I expect you to respect our operational protocols.” I stood there, completely frozen in disbelief. Not wanting to cause a humiliating scene in front of a lobby full of people, I pulled out my phone, planning to just call Victoria directly. Before I could dial, Liam’s voice cut through the air again, dripping with irritation. “Furthermore, the birthday cake you are holding qualifies as an unidentified high-calorie foreign food item. It is strictly prohibited from entering the executive workspace.” “Per protocol, you must surrender it to the front desk for a security screening. You will receive a claim ticket to retrieve it when you leave.” I was absolutely dumbfounded by the sheer audacity of this guy. Before my brain could even process what was happening, he snapped at the young receptionist behind the desk. “Security breach at the front desk. I am docking your monthly bonus by fifty dollars. Pay attention to your job. Do not just let random loiterers wander into the building.” I finally hit my breaking point. I stepped forward, my voice hard. “Mr. Pierce, do you not think you are crossing a line? I am Victoria’s fiancé. Are you seriously telling me I cannot visit my own fiancée at her office?” The poor receptionist looked like she was about to cry. “Exactly, Liam! Everyone in the company knows Mr. Sterling. I obviously cannot deny him entry.” Liam’s face hardened into a stone wall. He did not yield an inch. “Rules exist for a reason. No one gets special treatment. I am confident that by strictly enforcing company policy, the CEO will entirely support my decision. Have a good day.” With that, he pulled out a black VIP keycard and swiped it against the scanner with a deeply arrogant flourish. Beep. The heavy metal doors of the executive elevator began to slide shut. Right before the doors closed completely, he lifted his chin, locking eyes with me. There was no attempt to hide the smug superiority in his gaze. It was a silent, arrogant declaration. He won. And he successfully ignited a massive fire of rage in my chest. I immediately dialed Victoria’s private, personal cell phone. I needed to ask her exactly what the hell was going on, and who she thought she hired. The phone rang endlessly, but nobody answered. Furious, I was about to turn around and leave the building when the call suddenly connected. But before the word “Victoria” could even leave my mouth, a familiar, icy male voice echoed through the speaker. “Apologies, the CEO is currently unavailable. If you have an urgent matter, I can relay a message on your behalf.” At this point, my temper completely snapped. My voice was lethal. “Mr. Pierce, please inform Victoria that her fiancé is currently blocked from seeing her. Tell her to come down to the lobby and personally sign me in.” I expected him to panic, or at least get defensive. Instead, the line went dead silent for a second. Then, he replied in a flat, robotic tone. “Understood. I have recorded your demand.” “By the way, if I may be so bold…” “Mr. Sterling, do you genuinely have nothing productive to do with your life? Constantly hovering around a woman like a lovesick teenager… it is honestly pathetic.” I stared at the screen as the call disconnected. I stood in the lobby for a full minute, completely stunned. Eventually, I just started laughing. I had nothing to do? I was a lovesick teenager? I was hovering? It was beyond absurd. I graduated with my Ph.D. at twenty-six. Every elite bio-research institute in the country was in a bidding war to hire me. My daily schedule was ten times more packed than Victoria’s. And he had the audacity to call me unemployed? And calling me a simp was even more hilarious. At my eighteenth birthday gala, Victoria took one look at me and fell head over heels. From that night on, she spent years aggressively pursuing me. She followed me from New York to London. She chased me for three solid years before I finally agreed to be her boyfriend. The second I graduated college, she pressured both our families into finalizing an engagement, terrified I would change my mind and run. Saying I was obsessed with her was a massive joke. It was the exact opposite. But at the end of the day, Liam was just a glorified assistant. I was confident that once I told Victoria what happened, she would fire him immediately. But I had zero desire to stand in this toxic building any longer. Whatever. I was done. Just as I turned toward the revolving doors, my phone rang. It was Victoria. When she realized I was stuck in the lobby, she immediately started apologizing. “Baby, I am so sorry! I was stuck on a massive conference call. I had no idea you were here. I will send Liam down to escort you right now.” “Please do not be mad at me. I already booked a table at your favorite French restaurant for tonight. Give me a chance to make it up to you?” I let out a long, exhausted exhale. Remembering it was her birthday, I swallowed my irritation and stopped walking. I waited for several more minutes. With a soft chime, the executive elevator doors finally opened. I shot a freezing glare at Liam as he elegantly stepped out. He still wore that pristine, corporate smile. There was absolutely zero apology or regret on his face. “Mr. Sterling, the CEO has granted special authorization for me to escort you up.” I ignored him completely, walking straight past him into the elevator. But before I could step inside, Liam stepped into my path, physically blocking me again. “Mr. Sterling, per company policy, non-employees entering the executive floor must sign in and be escorted at all times. Here is your temporary visitor QR code.” “Please scan to register.” In that exact moment, I genuinely wanted to turn around, walk to my car, and never look back. But my desire to march into Victoria’s office, throw this in her face, and demand an immediate explanation was stronger. I clenched my jaw, fighting back the urge to punch him. I scanned the code. I registered. And I let Liam “escort” me down the hall to the CEO’s office. We finally reached her door. It was closed. Liam knocked softly. As I waited, my eyes casually drifted over to the massive, custom-built desk reserved for the executive assistant. My brain suddenly short-circuited. Sitting right next to his monitor was a deep purple, artisanal ceramic mug. It looked incredibly familiar. Aside from the color, it was an exact replica of the mug sitting on my desk at the research institute. It was a gift Victoria had painstakingly picked out for me during a business trip to Amsterdam last month. When she gave it to me, she made a massive deal out of it. She bragged that it was designed by an obscure European artisan, unavailable anywhere in the States, guaranteeing nobody else would ever have one like it. Liam noticed me staring at it. He casually commented, “The CEO has exquisite taste, doesn’t she? When I accompanied her to Amsterdam last month to help pick out your souvenir, she noticed how much I admired it. So, she bought one for me as well.” “She told me this color matched my aesthetic. Oh, by the way, I remember you really loved the blue one she got you. You even posted it on your Instagram story.” I did not say a single word. My stomach violently plummeted. Victoria never bought casual gifts for other men. I was the only exception. And she knew damn well how much I absolutely despised wearing or owning the exact same thing as someone else. While my mind was spinning, Liam pushed the heavy oak doors open. The moment she saw me, Victoria immediately muted her microphone and gave me a brilliant smile. “Hey baby! My call wraps up in ten minutes. Just hang out on the sofa for a bit.” Liam’s face remained completely passive. He walked smoothly over to the executive desk. With practiced familiarity, he picked up Victoria’s water glass and refilled it with warm water. Using the brief pause in her meeting, he flashed a flawless smile, rapidly debriefed her on two urgent matters, and turned to leave. Right before stepping out the door, he casually added, “Boss, you left your stomach medication in my car last night. I transferred it to the glovebox of your Bentley. Do not forget to take it on time.” The delivery was smooth, elegant, and perfectly professional. It was as if I did not even exist in the room. As if he had not spent the last twenty minutes aggressively humiliating me in the lobby. He was acting like absolutely nothing happened. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to remain calm. I sat on the designer leather sofa, waiting for Victoria to finish her call. But the longer I sat there, the more a sick, creeping suspicion began wrapping around my brain. It was about Liam. Honestly, I met him on his very first day on the job. At the time, Victoria explicitly instructed him that, as her personal assistant, one of his duties was to ensure my requests were handled promptly. Liam had smiled politely and agreed. And for a while, he seemed to do his job perfectly. Even though we rarely interacted face-to-face, he was always involved. Whenever Victoria and I had a date, Liam would text me a curated list of restaurant options, confirm my choice, and handle the reservations. For holidays and anniversaries, he would draft a spreadsheet of luxury gift options for Victoria, sending it to me so I could pick out what I wanted her to buy me. It looked like flawless, hyper-competent service. But slowly, I started feeling like something was deeply wrong. Whenever I called Victoria, Liam was always the one answering, immediately telling me she was tied up in meetings. Whenever I texted her, she would leave me on read for hours, later apologizing and saying she was too swamped to check her phone. Even when she was on business trips in cities where I happened to be attending conferences, whenever I tried to take her out to dinner, Liam would immediately block me, claiming she had back-to-back networking dinners. It happened so often that it started to feel intentional. It felt like Liam was systematically building a wall, isolating Victoria from me. As a result, unless Victoria had a rare night off and came home to our apartment, actually getting in touch with her had become nearly impossible. But whenever I voiced my frustration to Victoria, she always acted like I was being paranoid. “The company is in a massive expansion phase. I am drowning in work. I literally do not have the mental bandwidth to micromanage these tiny details.” “Stop overthinking it, baby. Once this quarter wraps up, I promise I will take you on an amazing vacation.” I believed her. I had tested Victoria for three entire years before dating her. I implicitly trusted her character. Her obsession with me was undeniable, and I never once believed she would cheat. I just assumed she was a workaholic. And since my own research schedule was brutal, I let it go. I thought Liam was just doing his job as a personal assistant, managing her chaotic life. But after everything that just happened, my intuition was screaming at me with absolute clarity. Liam viewed me as a threat. To spare me from waiting any longer, Victoria hurriedly wrapped up her conference call and rushed over to coddle me. “I am so sorry! It is so rare for you to actually pick me up from work, and I made you wait.” Before I could even open my mouth to explain what happened downstairs, or demand to know why Liam had a matching Amsterdam mug, Victoria threw her arms around my neck, pulling me tight against her and kissing my forehead. She was just leaning in to kiss my lips when Liam suddenly walked back into the office. Startled, I immediately pulled away from Victoria’s embrace. “Apologies, Boss. I thought your meeting was still ongoing. I just wanted to slice the cake Mr. Sterling brought and serve it.” Liam apologized verbally, but there was not a single trace of embarrassment on his face. Victoria did not even scold him for failing to knock. Instead, a bright smile spread across her face. “You brought me a cake? Let me try a piece, I am starving.” I opened my mouth to tell her I baked it from scratch. But when I looked down at the slice on the plate, I immediately realized something was wrong. “This is not the cake I brought. My cake was filled with blueberries. This one is plain vanilla.” I shot a dark, questioning look at Liam. He smiled politely, his voice calm and perfectly steady. “Mr. Sterling, the cake you brought was excessively high in sugar. It is not suitable for the CEO’s dietary plan. Since today is her birthday, I took the liberty of pre-ordering a keto-friendly, low-sugar alternative from her favorite bakery.” Victoria did not seem to care at all. She took a massive bite. “Wow, this is actually really good. You are always so thoughtful, Liam.” She completely failed to notice that my face had turned into a thunderstorm. I shoved the plate Liam offered me away, my voice dropping into a lethal, quiet register. “Where is the cake I brought? Who gave you the authority to throw away my property without my permission?” “How do you know the cake I baked was not low-sugar?” “Is this the ultimate power trip of a ‘Gold-Star Executive Assistant’? You think you have the authority to dictate what the CEO’s fiancé is allowed to feed her?” Liam’s perpetually composed mask finally cracked. A flash of genuine panic crossed his eyes. His voice trembled as he immediately started apologizing. “I am so sorry. I am so sorry, Mr. Sterling. Your cake is still in the breakroom, untouched.” “I was merely prioritizing the CEO’s health, given her recent focus on fitness.” Liam played the role of the terrified, hyper-professional subordinate perfectly. He looked absolutely nothing like the arrogant tyrant who had barred me from the elevator twenty minutes ago. I was genuinely stunned by his acting skills. As soon as his apology hung in the air, Victoria frowned. “Let it go. It is just a slice of cake. Liam was just looking out for my health. Since he already apologized, stop blowing this out of proportion. We can take the cake you brought back to the apartment and eat it later.” “Liam, do not let this happen again. Leave us alone and shut the door behind you.” Liam gave a shallow, perfectly executed bow and turned to leave. Still playing the flawless corporate servant. But right before he turned his head, both Victoria and I clearly saw the corners of his eyes turning bright red, as if he was holding back tears. Victoria let out a heavy sigh, wrapping her arms around me again to soothe my temper. “Come on, Liam was just prioritizing my health. Do not let a minor misunderstanding ruin your mood.” “Minor misunderstanding?” I stared at Victoria in total disbelief. Remembering the aggressive humiliation I endured in the lobby, I completely lost my filter, dumping every single detail of Liam’s psychotic power trip directly onto her. As I spoke, Victoria’s frown deepened, but she remained completely silent. When I finally finished, the room was dead quiet. I fully expected her to storm out there and fire Liam on the spot. Instead, she let out a long, exhausted sigh. “He is just a young guy who takes his job a little too seriously. He enforces strict professional boundaries. Stop being so petty.” I was so stunned I physically shoved Victoria away from me. Three years ago, she fired an assistant on the spot and paid him severance just because he misspelled my first name on a document. Now, I was explicitly telling her that her new assistant had maliciously and intentionally humiliated me in public. And her response was to casually brush it off as him being “professional.” I let out a dark, bitter laugh. “What about the mug on his desk? You know exactly how much I despise receiving matching gifts.” “Victoria, you used to have absolute, flawless boundaries when it came to other men.” Victoria rubbed her temples. Looking completely exhausted but endlessly patient, she looked at me and said, “Yes, he is a bit rigid with the rules. But you just said it yourself. He was strictly enforcing company policy. Do you expect me to punish my employee just because he refused to break the rules and give you special VIP treatment?” “As for the gift. You always seemed so happy with the presents Liam picked out for you. That is why I let him choose your souvenir this time. While we were shopping, I noticed he really liked the design. The mug was only a few thousand dollars. It is basically pocket change. Is casually buying an employee a cheap souvenir really a federal crime?” Hearing her actively defend Liam, I felt a wave of absolute disgust wash over me. I could not stop the bitter questions spilling from my mouth. “Fine. He was just strictly enforcing corporate policy.” “Then let me ask you this. He is just an assistant. Why does he have unrestricted VIP access to your private elevator?” “Why does he have the authority to confiscate a homemade birthday cake brought by the CEO’s fiancé and replace it with a store-bought one?” “Why does he have the authorization to screen your private calls, intercept your personal texts, block your fiancé from seeing you, and openly mock me for being a pathetic simp? Are those tasks included in his official job description?” “Do you really think this is about the money? You bought him the exact same mug you bought me. What is the subtext there? Are you implying he holds the same weight in your life as I do?” “If you told people he was your assistant, they would believe you. If you didn’t, they would assume he was the one engaged to you.” Victoria’s face darkened, but I did not see the shock or outrage I expected. Instead, she grabbed my arm, falling right back into her usual routine of placating me like a child. “He has to escort high-profile clients up to this floor all the time. Giving him a VIP card just makes logistical sense.” “As my personal assistant, when I am swamped, having him screen my calls and answer texts is completely standard practice. It is just a ceramic mug. Are you seriously going to launch a full-scale inquisition over a cup?” “Honestly? All I see is an assistant who executes his duties flawlessly and pays extreme attention to detail. I had no idea you harbored this much irrational hostility toward him…” Hearing Victoria refuse to acknowledge a single issue, all the fight completely drained out of me. No matter how I phrased it. He was the one actively destroying boundaries, and she was the one passively enabling it. Yet somehow, I was the petty, jealous, irrational villain in this story. “Baby, are you just feeling hyper-sensitive lately? Stop throwing a tantrum. Once this quarter is over, I will take you on a nice, long vacation to relax. Okay? Just smile for me.” Victoria wrapped her arms around me again, using that sickly sweet, pacifying tone. It was obvious she did not care about this situation at all. I had absolutely nothing left to say. I pushed her off me, stood up, and walked toward the door. Victoria sighed heavily but followed me out. As I walked past Liam’s desk, I remembered something and stopped dead in my tracks. Taking a deep breath, I looked down at him. My voice was ice cold. “Give me my cake back.” Liam froze. He clearly did not expect me to actually demand it back. His eyes involuntarily darted toward the stairwell door. I followed his gaze, taking a few long strides and pushing the heavy fire door open. There it was. The cake I had spent my entire day baking with love. Treated like literal garbage. The box had not even been opened. It was shoved into the top of the industrial trash can. I slowly turned around, staring dead into Victoria’s eyes. “Victoria. Behold your completely unbiased, hyper-professional assistant.” Without waiting for her to formulate another pathetic excuse, I turned my back on her, walked straight to the elevator bank, and pressed the button for the standard employee elevator. Behind me, I heard Liam’s frantic, whispered apologies. “I am so sorry, Boss. I assumed you would not be able to eat both cakes, so I temporarily set it aside. I had no idea the cleaning staff would throw it away.” “I swear I had no malicious intent. I think Mr. Sterling just completely misunderstands me.” I did not even bother turning around. I just threw a freezing response over my shoulder. “You know damn well whether the janitor threw it away, or if you threw it away yourself. Let me give you a piece of advice. You need to relearn how to show basic, human respect to your boss’s fiancé. If you pull a stunt like this again, the only person who is going to end up humiliated is your boss.” Victoria grabbed my arm, aggressively suppressing her own temper, still trying to defuse the situation. “Liam already explained it was a misunderstanding! Stop obsessing over a stupid cake and embarrassing everyone!” “Today is my birthday. Can you please just give me some respect and stop causing a scene?” I violently ripped my arm out of her grip and sneered. “Do you even need me here? I am pretty sure your gold-star assistant already has your entire night perfectly planned out.” With that, I stepped into the elevator. Right before the metal doors slid shut. Victoria’s face looked absolutely livid. Meanwhile, Liam stood right next to her, maintaining that flawless, robotic corporate smile, staring directly at me. He was still playing the role of the perfect assistant. Once I got back to my car, I sat in the driver’s seat for a long time, completely unable to calm down. The more I thought about it, the more furious I became. I pulled out my phone and quickly typed a text to my mother. [Mom, pull our funding from the five-hundred-million-dollar joint venture with the Sullivans. Terminate it. I figured some things out today. It is better to maintain strict professional boundaries.]

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Three years after breaking up with River Wright, I accidentally ran into him on a film set while working as a background extra. By then, he had already established himself as an elite, visionary director. The extras around me were whispering, gossiping about how the leading lady of this film was his girlfriend of three years, and that they were likely getting engaged soon. They looked at her with pure envy, talking about how lucky she was to lock down River, effectively securing her future as a permanent fixture in the untouchable Wright dynasty. Looking at the freezing, intimidating man surrounded by a massive entourage, I could barely recognize him as the same boy who used to squeeze into a cramped, miserable studio apartment with me to survive. While I was still lost in my memories, he suddenly stopped walking. He instructed his assistant to have the lead actress, Ashley Blair, step out because she was feeling unwell. He ordered them to use a stunt double for the upcoming water scene. Then, he casually lifted his eyes, carelessly pointing a single finger directly at me. When his gaze locked onto mine, the corner of his mouth twitched upward into a provocative smirk. He asked if I had a problem with it. 1 An icy rain had just stopped, leaving the air biting and cold. I huddled within the crowd of extras, pulling my heavy cotton coat tight around myself. My friend, Maya, leaned in, barely suppressing her excitement. “Did you see Director Wright’s face when Ashley accidentally bumped into that prop?” She was a massive fan of the River and Ashley relationship, constantly obsessing over their every interaction. I gave a weak hum of agreement. I had been on set all night, taking the freezing wind directly to the face. Right now, I was shivering violently and just wanted to crawl into bed. Another extra next to us jumped into the conversation. “Ashley is so incredibly lucky. Three years ago she was a literal nobody playing nameless extras. Now she is a massive, A-list movie star.” “Well, look at Director Wright’s family. The Wright Entertainment Empire! Making someone a star is basically a hobby for them.” “Ashley really hit the jackpot. Marrying him and having the Wright family backing her? She is set for life.” Maya argued back, “What do you mean ‘hit the jackpot’?” “When Director Wright directed his first indie film, nobody had any idea he was the Wright heir. Everyone knows he had some desperate ex-girlfriend who dumped him because she thought he was broke and wanted to climb the social ladder.” “Honestly, thank god that girl was completely blind. She practically handed him over to Ashley.” Maya nudged me, looking for backup. “Right?” I gave another slow, exhausted hum. 2 When I was dating River. I had absolutely no idea he came from insane wealth. To be fair, he never mentioned it. But honestly, nobody looking at the sweet, exhausted, endlessly patient junior camera assistant he was back then would ever connect him to the billionaire heir of the Wright Entertainment Empire. And I certainly did not dump him to climb the social ladder. Because nobody climbs the social ladder just to end up as a nameless extra on their ex-boyfriend’s set. Maya cleared her throat, about to say something else, but suddenly froze. The normally terrifying Assistant Director was walking toward the extras’ rest area, leading a tall, imposing figure. River Wright had personally come to the extras’ holding area. They had been filming for a month, and this was the very first time. The AD glanced at his phone and whispered something. River replied dismissively. “Ashley is not feeling well. Let her rest in the trailer.” “Find a double for the water sequence.” Even though I was shrinking back and keeping my head down, I felt a stare lock onto me like a physical needle. “Use her.” River’s voice was quiet, but it carried an undeniable, absolute authority. My chest tightened violently. I slowly raised my head, locking eyes with River’s freezing, pitch-black gaze. Our eyes met. The corner of his lips curled up slightly, his brow arching in a silent challenge. “What? Do you have a problem with it?” His voice felt like it had been soaked in ice water. 3 My legs felt like lead as I followed the AD. The rigging crew was already waiting by the edge of the deep water tank. I gritted my teeth, fighting back violent waves of dizziness and shivering. Maybe because I looked genuinely sick, the usually brutal AD offered a rare word of comfort. “It is just a wide shot. Do not stress.” He gave my shoulder a quick squeeze. A PA suddenly yelled his name from a distance. “Director Wright needs you.” I turned my head. Through the chaos of the scrambling crew, I immediately spotted River. He was standing behind the monitor, arms crossed, his expression impatient and harsh. Everyone hovered around him like anxious satellites, waiting for his command. I snapped back to reality as the slate clapped and the AD yelled, “Action!” The wire violently yanked me up, suspending me high in the air. Below me was the freezing, pitch-black water. Memories I had desperately tried to bury suddenly surged to the surface. Splash— The freezing water slammed into me from all sides, crushing my chest. A delayed, violent panic hit me. I instinctively began thrashing. “Cut.” The crew dragged me out of the water, dragging my freezing body onto the concrete. In the chaos, a massive shadow fell over me. I struggled to look up, only seeing the sharp, merciless line of River’s jaw. A second later, his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Absolutely pathetic.” Because I had water in my ears, his voice was muffled, but the cruelty was unmistakable. “How does someone with zero talent and zero professionalism even get hired on my set?” He checked his expensive watch, tapping the glass as he spoke to the crew. “Dry her off. We are going again.” Over the roar of the industrial space heaters, I caught fragments of the crew whispering. “It is just a wide shot. You cannot even see her face. Why are we doing another take?” “…He is in a terrible mood… Ashley scraped her knee…” I lowered my eyes. I methodically wrung the freezing water out of my hair with a towel. I kept my mind completely blank. From the second I decided to return to acting, I had mentally prepared myself to endure absolutely anything. We shot the water plunge five times. River finally gave a tight nod of approval. The crew immediately scrambled to tear down the set, prep for the next location, and move on. The entire soundstage was a chaotic blur of noise and movement. I tried to move my limbs, slowly swimming toward the edge of the tank. But no matter how hard I tried, my completely frozen body just started dragging me down into the water. Until my consciousness finally slipped into absolute darkness. 4 When I woke up, I was lying in a strange, unfamiliar bedroom. The heavy blackout curtains were drawn shut. The room was dark and suffocating. It felt like a completely isolated island. A massive wave of pure panic crashed over me. I violently threw myself out of the bed. The sudden movement ripped the IV needle out of the back of my hand. Blood immediately started pouring down my skin. When the dizziness finally passed, I grabbed my phone, which was aggressively vibrating on the nightstand. A breaking news notification immediately popped up on the lock screen. [River Wright carries Ashley Blair off set! Actress posts a sweet photo confirming their happiness!] My hand shook. The screen automatically unlocked to a social media app. Half an hour ago, Ashley had posted two photos. One was a steaming bowl of ginger soup. The other was a dark, blurry shot of the water tank. The caption read: [The hardest scene is finally here! It is freezing outside, remember to drink your ginger soup. Feeling so warm and happy inside.] The comment section was split into a massive war. One side was aggressively defending the “carry,” claiming Ashley fainted from exhaustion and River rushed her to the medic. Another side was viciously attacking the production team and her manager, demanding to know why an A-list actress was forced to shoot a freezing water sequence for hours until she collapsed. Scattered in between were obsessive fans screaming about how perfect River and Ashley were together. Soon, the hashtag #AshleyBlairProfessionalism hit the number one trending spot. I glanced at it for a few seconds and closed the app. My head was still throbbing violently. It felt so heavy I thought if I tilted my neck, it would snap right off. As I slipped my shoes on, my brain finally processed something. I was wearing thick, dry, completely different clothes. Just as I started looking around for my soaked costume, the bedroom door opened. River walked in, holding a steaming bowl of ginger soup. “Looks like you are fine.” He casually set the bowl on the nightstand, staring at me with a dark, calculating intensity. The dim light cast heavy shadows across his face, hiding his expression. After a long pause, a mocking smirk curled his lips. “Lily Evans, look how pathetic you have become.” I let out a short, dry laugh. My throat felt like it was lined with broken glass, but I managed to speak. “Isn’t this entirely your fault?” 5 River’s face darkened instantly. I scanned the room again. Still no sign of my costume. Whatever. I didn’t care. It was just a shame about the money. The production company charged a two-hundred-dollar penalty for lost wardrobe. I tried to walk past River to leave. But he moved faster, suddenly closing the distance. With almost zero effort, he shoved my exhausted, weak body back down onto the bed, pinning me there. River grabbed my wrist with one hand, his eyes dropping to the bleeding puncture wound from the IV. The corner of his mouth twitched. His other hand grabbed my jaw, forcing me to look at him. “Still the exact same. Totally unreasonable.” His tone was intimate, almost teasing, with a faint smile playing on his lips. But his dark eyes were completely dead. There was absolutely zero warmth. I twisted my head violently, trying to escape his grip and the hot, suffocating breath hitting my face. River let me struggle, his grip like iron. “Three years ago, you vanished without a single word.” “When you did that, did you ever imagine this is how you would end up?” His thumb slowly traced the line of my brow. “Three years ago… did you act like this in his bed too?” A massive, overwhelming wave of pure humiliation crushed my chest. I didn’t even have time to feel angry. The blood pounded violently in my temples. My teeth started chattering uncontrollably, my entire body violently shaking. A flash of genuine regret crossed River’s eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t…” I snapped my head to the side, sinking my teeth violently into the hand pinning my face down. My mind went completely blank. I just bit down harder. And harder. The heavy, metallic taste of blood instantly flooded my mouth. River gritted his teeth, finally letting out a sharp hiss of pain. His face twisted as he struggled to maintain control. Right at that exact second, there was a soft knock on the door. “River? Are you in there?” Ashley’s voice was hesitant and probing. 6 I ran out of the hotel. Standing under a pitch-black, suffocating sky, I felt completely lost. Someone gently tugged on my sleeve. It was a group of extremely young, panicked-looking girls. The girl leading them looked at me nervously. “Miss, are you crew for The Emerald Cage?” She pointed at the production logo printed on my jacket, her voice frantic. “Do you know how Ashley is doing? Is she okay?” They told me they were Ashley’s super-fans. When they saw the news that she fainted, they panicked, paid off a scalper, and snuck onto the lot. Their faces were pale with genuine fear and concern for their idol. “She is fine,” I rasped, my throat burning. “You guys need to go home. This area is restricted, and it is not safe for you to be out here in the dark.” As they turned to leave, one girl who had been standing quietly in the back hesitated, her voice trembling. “Lily Evans? Is that you?” When she saw me freeze, her face lit up. “It is you!” “I used to watch your shows and movies! I loved your acting so much!” “When you quit the industry, there was absolutely no news about you. I was so worried about you.” “Are you ever going to come back to acting?” I never imagined that, in this miserable, humiliating moment, I would hear someone say they loved me and loved my work. The sheer shock of it hit me like a physical blow. My nose burned. My throat completely locked up. I could only manage a single, heavy nod. “I will.” The girl stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me in a tight, gentle hug. “I never believed a single word of those tabloid rumors,” she whispered in my ear. “Keep fighting!” She gave me a bright smile and ran off to catch up with her friends. I watched her until she disappeared into the dark. Only then did I look down. My tears hit the concrete, shattering into tiny, dark flowers. Three years ago, the tabloids exploded with a story that “manipulative D-list actress Lily Evans” slept with a billionaire heir to secure a role. The photos they leaked showed me practically unconscious, hanging off a man as we stumbled into a hotel room, and later leaving with my clothes completely disheveled. The entire internet ripped me apart, using the most vile, toxic language imaginable to destroy me. Even just ten minutes ago. The man who used to love me used the exact same rumors to degrade me. But this stranger? She looked me in the eye and said she believed me. 7 The production provided a cheap, rundown dorm for the background extras. When I walked in, Maya was just climbing down from her top bunk. “You are finally back.” She aggressively ushered me to sit down, grabbing pillows for my back and pouring me a glass of hot water. “Even if River is obsessed with protecting Ashley, what he did today was completely psychotic.” Her eyebrows were twisted in a tight, angry knot. “You were the one who went into the freezing water. You were the one who passed out. But the second Ashley posts a picture, the entire internet is praising her dedication!” She cursed a few more times, then suddenly shot me a very strange, calculating look. “By the way… the AD told me to tell you that Director Wright was extremely impressed by your raw talent today. He said you have great instincts, and he is writing a specific speaking role just for you.” I gave a weak, exhausted nod. My head was pounding so hard it felt like a construction crew was operating inside my skull. I dry-swallowed two painkillers and collapsed onto the thin mattress. Just as I was slipping into unconsciousness, my phone vibrated. It was a text from my mom. [Transferred some money to your account. Please don’t starve yourself.] Her profile picture was a screenshot of a character I played years ago. A photo of twenty-two-year-old Lily Evans. Arrogant, confident, and utterly fearless. The words on the screen blurred into a watery mess. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, tangling into my hair, making my scalp itch. It felt just like the day before I left home to return to the city. Resting my head on her lap, she gently stroked my hair, her voice thick with helpless love. “I don’t care about anything else. I am just terrified you are going to get hurt. I am terrified you are going to be miserable.” “But I know you. Once you make a choice, you will smash your head against a brick wall before you ever turn back. You will walk this path no matter what.” “Whenever you get too tired, just come home. Do not torture yourself for nothing.” I didn’t reply. I honestly didn’t know what to say. As I closed the chat app, a tiny red dot suddenly appeared on my contacts tab. Under the [New Friends] requests, there was a blank profile with the username “M.” I locked my phone screen. Rolling over, I sank back into the dark.

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The day I interviewed at Lumina Dynamics, their Director of Technology tore my resume to pieces in front of everyone. He sneered, asking what gave someone from a diploma mill the right to even be here, and told me to get the hell out. The other interviewers around him erupted in laughter. I didn’t react. I just calmly bent down and picked up the scattered pieces, one by one. I looked up at him, a small smile playing on my lips. “Very well, Marcus,” I told him. “In half an hour, you will receive a formal email from Vanguard Corp terminating all of our contracts with your company.” He laughed even harder, mocking me. “Who the hell do you think you are, daydreaming in my office?” Exactly thirty minutes later, the CEO of Lumina Dynamics burst into the interview room, his face pale with panic. He slapped the still-clueless tech director across the face, his voice cracking with rage. “You absolute moron! Do you have any idea whose resume you just ripped to shreds?” 1 The sweltering air in Lumina Dynamics’ interview room 203 was a solid, suffocating thing, like a cheap sponge soaked in filth, refusing to yield a single drop of fresh oxygen. I was dressed for this undercover mission in a carefully chosen white shirt and a pair of faded jeans. No makeup, and my hair was pulled back in the most unremarkable ponytail imaginable. To them, I looked like any other recent graduate, anxious and uncertain about the future. Across from me sat the company’s Director of Technology, Marcus. He was a man in his forties, his hair shellacked with too much gel, gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Behind a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes sized me up like a piece of cheap merchandise. He pinched my forged resume between his fingers. His crudely manicured nail scraped impatiently across the words “Oakwood Community College,” making a grating sound. “Oakwood Community College… What the hell is that? Some diploma mill next to a strip club?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it was sharp and dripping with undisguised contempt. The other interviewers beside him exchanged knowing glances, smirks they couldn’t quite suppress. They were like a pack of Roman patricians watching a spectacle, and I was the lowly gladiator about to be thrown to the lions. I remained silent, watching him as if he were the star of some terrible, low-budget play that had nothing to do with me. My silence seemed to infuriate him. He’d probably expected me to tremble with fear, to wither under the weight of his authority. He shot to his feet, holding the single sheet of paper in front of my face. With a sharp, violent rip, he tore my “resume” in half. And then again. The pieces rained down like toxic confetti, landing around my sneakers. “Does a piece of trash from a worthless school like this really think she can interview here?” He was practically spitting as he spoke. “Listen here, little girl. Lumina only hires the best, from the Ivy League! Someone like you isn’t even qualified to get us coffee. Now take your garbage and get the hell out!” The laughter, no longer restrained, exploded in the small room. One of the female interviewers even covered her mouth in an exaggerated gasp, shooting Marcus a fawning look. “You’ve got a sharp eye, Marcus,” she cooed. “These desperate wannabes trying to sneak into big companies need to be put in their place.” The humiliation was meant to be a thousand tiny needles, piercing my composure. But I felt nothing. It was all just… absurdly comical. This was the core supplier Vanguard Corp paid seven million dollars a year? This was the ace director in charge of our most sensitive technical integration? The management was a chaotic mess, rife with nepotism, rotten to its core. The risk of a data leak was a hundred times more severe than even Mr. Sinclair had predicted. I bent down. Under their mocking gazes, I slowly, deliberately, picked up every single piece of my “humiliation.” Then I straightened up, walked to the polished mahogany table, and placed the fragments gently on its gleaming surface. I lifted my eyes to meet Marcus’s, his face twisted with arrogance, and offered him a slight smile. “Very well, Marcus.” My voice was quiet, but it had a strange, cutting quality that silenced the room. “In half an hour, you’ll be receiving a formal email from Vanguard Corp’s legal department. It will inform you that every single one of our contracts with this company is terminated.” After a moment of dead silence, Marcus erupted as if he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world. He laughed so hard his greasy glasses nearly slid off his nose. “Vanguard Corp? Hahaha! Who the hell do you think you are? Some community college idiot, coming to my turf to daydream?” He pointed a finger at me, then turned to the others. “Can you believe this? I call out her bullshit and she completely loses it. Starts spouting absolute nonsense.” The others joined in his laughter, though it was a little weaker this time, tinged with an uncertainty my words had planted. I didn’t spare the clowns another glance. I turned and pulled open the door. The fluorescent lights in the hallway were harsh. I took out my phone and dialed a number on my speed dial. He picked up on the first ring. “Victoria, how did it go?” Mr. Sinclair’s deep, steady voice came through the line. I leaned against the cool wall, gazing out at the gray city skyline. My tone was as flat as if I were deciding on a salad for lunch. “Mr. Sinclair, about that seven-million-dollar annual renewal with Lumina… I don’t think we’ll be needing it.” “Their people just tore up my resume. In front of a room full of their staff.” The line was silent for three full seconds. Then, Mr. Sinclair’s voice returned, low and laced with a terrifying, controlled fury. “I understand. Handle it your way. The firm’s legal and marketing departments are on standby.” After hanging up, I didn’t leave. I waited. I waited for the devastating email to reach its destination. I waited for the C4 I had just planted to detonate inside this seemingly solid corporate tower. Less than twenty minutes later, a frantic, chaotic pounding of footsteps echoed from the end of the hall, accompanied by a man’s panicked, voice-cracking shriek. “Marcus! Where is that goddamn idiot?!” I watched with detached amusement as a man with a severely receding hairline, his bespoke suit soaked through with cold sweat, practically sprinted toward me. It was Lumina’s CEO, Arthur Carlson. I’d seen his picture at a few annual supplier summits. His personal assistant trailed behind him, her face just as pale, nearly tripping in her high heels. Arthur spotted me leaning against the wall, and the color drained from his face. He looked like he’d just seen a ghost. He practically threw himself in my direction, screeching to a halt a few feet away, heaving for breath, his chest rising and falling violently. Before I could say a word, he had already stormed into interview room 203. The next sound was a slap so sharp and loud it seemed to echo through the entire floor. It was followed by Arthur’s furious, near-hysterical roar. “You brainless idiot! Do you have any idea whose resume you just ripped to shreds?!” I strolled back to the doorway, leaning lazily against the frame to enjoy the magnificent chaos unfolding within. Marcus was clutching his rapidly swelling face, his gold-rimmed glasses knocked clear across the room. He was completely stunned. “Mr. Carlson… I… she was just some fraud…” Arthur spun around like a cornered lion. But the moment his eyes landed on me, he instantly deflated into a trembling quail. He bowed deeply, his voice shaking like a leaf in a storm. “Ms. Victoria! A misunderstanding! This is a terrible, terrible misunderstanding! I was blind, my people are incompetent, please, I beg you, don’t take it to heart!” Marcus was dumbfounded. He pointed at me, then looked at his groveling boss, stammering, “What’s going on? Who the hell is she?” As if his tail had been stepped on, Arthur whirled back around and kicked Marcus squarely in the kneecap. “Who is she?!” he screamed. “She’s our biggest client! She’s Vanguard Corp’s Chief Marketing Officer, Victoria! That seven-million-dollar contract? It was her signature on the bottom line!” A bomb had just gone off in the room. The interviewers who had been laughing so freely just moments ago were now chalk-white, their throats so tight they looked like they’d forgotten how to breathe. Their gazes darted between my simple white shirt and the pile of shredded paper from the “diploma mill,” their eyes filled with a mixture of raw terror and utter disbelief. I stepped into the room, took the last piece of the resume I’d been holding, and gently placed it on top of the messy pile. My eyes were like arctic ice as I scanned each of their faces, finally landing on Arthur, who was shaking uncontrollably. “Mr. Carlson, is this how you screen your talent?” “Is this the kind of man you have managing our highest-level technical integration?” Every word was a frozen dagger plunging into his heart. Sweat poured down Arthur’s forehead in rivers, dripping onto the carpet. He grabbed Marcus by his silk tie, his spit flying. “Marcus! You’re fired! Effective immediately! Get your shit and get out of this building! Now!” I watched the pathetic display, a cold, mocking smile on my lips. “Fired?” “Do you really think firing one useless employee is enough to compensate for the insult he paid to me, and to all of Vanguard Corp?” I took out my phone, opened my email, and turned the screen toward him. The harshly worded “Notice of Contract Termination,” drafted by Vanguard’s top legal team, glowed on the screen. “The termination notice has been sent. A formal letter from our lawyers will be delivered to your desk shortly.” Arthur stared at the screen, his legs giving out from under him. He collapsed onto the expensive Persian rug, his eyes vacant. “It’s over,” he muttered, his voice hollow with despair. “It’s all over.” I didn’t waste another look on the pathetic man. I turned and walked away, my steps crisp and decisive. At the door, I paused. Without looking back, I delivered one last line that sent him plunging into an icy abyss. “Mr. Carlson, this is only the beginning.” 2 Returning to my penthouse office in Vanguard Corp’s Manhattan headquarters was like stepping out of a filthy, oppressive bog and back into my absolute kingdom. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city skyline glittered, a forest of steel and glass exuding a cold, arrogant light. The air inside was perfectly climate-controlled, scented with my favorite white tea aromatherapy. Mr. Sinclair had already prepared a pot of impossibly rare Darjeeling tea. The rising steam softened the features of his face, a face weathered by decades of navigating the brutal seas of commerce. “You’re back. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He pushed a cup of the amber liquid toward me. His tone held none of the coldness of a chairman, only the warmth and concern of a mentor. I shook my head, lifting the delicate bone china. Its warmth spread through my fingertips, chasing away the last of the cheap chill I’d picked up at Lumina. “It was nothing.” I took a small sip and looked at the man across from me. “The fish is even dumber and more vicious than I imagined. Lumina’s management is rotten from the top down.” This “undercover” operation had been a top-secret directive from Sinclair himself. For the past six months, the technical specs for several of Vanguard’s flagship products were being precisely countered by our arch-rival, OmniCore, just before launch. We had run countless internal audits, scoured our firewalls, and reviewed every NDA until our eyes bled, but we couldn’t find a single leak. The only remaining suspect was our core component supplier: Lumina Dynamics. But we had no hard evidence. In this world, moving without proof would only spook our prey. So, I’d orchestrated this little drama, disguising myself as a nobody applicant to get a feel for Lumina’s internal culture. I just never expected them to rip off their own mask for me before I even had a chance to start probing. I set down my cup and gave my boss my assessment. “This Marcus guy is arrogant and stupid. He doesn’t have the brains to be the mastermind behind a sophisticated corporate espionage plot. At his level, he’s a gofer at best—a dog let off its leash to bark at the door. There’s a much bigger fish hiding behind him.” A chilling glint flashed in Mr. Sinclair’s deep-set eyes. He nodded slowly. “Do what you need to do. The entire firm’s resources are at your disposal.” His tone shifted, taking on the unique ruthlessness of a top-tier capitalist. “Besides, it’s high time we cleaned up this supply chain. A company with no respect for its clients doesn’t deserve to survive.” With the chairman’s blessing, there was nothing left to hold me back. I returned to my desk, opened a secure channel, and convened an emergency video conference with the heads of Legal and Marketing. My orders, delivered over an encrypted network, were precise and lethal. “Legal, I want every contract we’ve had with Lumina for the past five years. I want you to go through them with a goddamn magnifying glass and find every single breach. Delivery delays, defect rates, spec failures—anything and everything.” On the screen, the head of Legal pushed up his glasses, a predatory glint in his eyes. “Leave it to me, Victoria. There are enough penalty clauses in these old contracts to strip them bare.” I smiled, satisfied. “Once you have the evidence, prepare to file a lawsuit. I want maximum punitive damages. I want them to vomit up every last cent they’ve ever earned from us, with interest.” I then turned my attention to the Director of Marketing. “Marketing, activate Plan B. Contact our backup suppliers and open top-priority negotiations. I want a new letter of intent on my desk within three days.” I slowed my speech, adding weight to my next words. “And I want you to let Wall Street Journal and a few of the tech blogs in the Valley know, ‘accidentally on purpose,’ that we’ve dropped Lumina from our core supply chain due to ‘gross misconduct and extreme managerial incompetence.’” The marketing director grinned, giving me a thumbs-up. “Understood. The leak will be very… ‘accidental.’” The meeting ended. A series of fatal blows was already hurtling toward the enemy. I leaned back in my leather chair, waiting for the market to deliver its verdict. It didn’t take long. My phone began vibrating incessantly on the desk. Real-time updates from my team. “Victoria, Lumina’s pre-market stock is starting to dip.” “Boss, three of their downstream partners are blowing up our PR lines, trying to figure out what’s going on.” “It’s already hitting the tech forums. The story is trending.” Meanwhile, Arthur’s calls came in one after another, like a death knell. I glanced at the flashing name on the screen and hit decline every time. His text messages flooded my inbox, a pathetic cascade of begging. “Ms. Victoria, for the love of God, please give me another chance!” “We’ve worked together for so many years! Think of our history!” “Victoria! Don’t push us too far! If you back us into a corner, we’ll drag you down with us! It won’t be good for anyone!” “I was wrong. I admit it. Just name your price. I’ll do anything!” I watched the progression from threats to groveling, a cold smile touching my lips. I sent a single, two-word reply. “Just wait.” Just then, an unknown number called. I swiped to answer. Marcus’s voice, rabid and unhinged, exploded from the speaker. “So you’re Victoria, huh? You think ruining my career is the end of this? I’ve got connections, you bitch! I’ll make sure you can never work in this town again!” He continued spewing a torrent of filth, polluting the air with his vulgarity. I didn’t even bother to grant him a response. I just ended the call and blocked the number. The ravings of a mad dog on its way to the slaughterhouse weren’t worth a single second of my time. But his words—“I’ve got connections”—only confirmed it. The trap I’d set was working. Marcus, you stupid dog. You’re about to lead your real master right to my door. 3 Things escalated faster than I’d anticipated, and with a decidedly dramatic flair. The next morning, I got a call from the front desk. Arthur was in the lobby of the Vanguard tower, surrounded by gift boxes of premium cigars and rare liquors, begging to see me. I flipped through the morning paper, speaking coolly into the receiver. “Tell security I’m busy. And tell him to get lost.” After being unceremoniously denied entry, Arthur seemed to have a complete breakdown. He sent me a long, encrypted message that confirmed all my suspicions. “Victoria, I’m begging you! I can’t fire Marcus. He’s my brother-in-law Derek’s man. Derek is the Executive VP, he runs the entire R&D division. Marcus is his right hand. My hands are tied!” Derek. The CEO’s brother-in-law, Lumina’s Executive VP. The real snake, hidden in the weeds, had finally shown its head. Just as I was about to deploy my team to dig into Derek’s background, a vicious, targeted smear campaign against me and Vanguard Corp erupted online. Several third-rate tech gossip sites, known for their sensationalist clickbait, suddenly published a coordinated series of articles with inflammatory headlines. Tech Giant’s ‘She-Devil’ Exec Abuses Power to Crush Supplier! The Seven-Million-Dollar Bully: How a Community College Grad’s Rejection Sparked Corporate Warfare. Annihilated by Arrogance: Is Big Capital the Final Nail in the Coffin for Small Tech? In these articles, I was painted as a petty, vindictive monster who had slept her way to the top. And Marcus, the arrogant fool, was recast as a tragic hero who stood up for his principles, only to be ruthlessly crushed by a corporate tyrant. The most malicious twist was the claim that my entire interview was a setup. They accused me of being a corporate spy sent by Vanguard to steal Lumina’s “proprietary technology.” The internet, as it does, went wild. Keyboard warriors who cared nothing for the truth, only for a chance to tear down the successful, flooded the comment sections with venom. “This Victoria chick sounds like a total psycho. Ruining a company because some HR guy told the truth?” “This is how corporate giants like Vanguard operate? Disgusting. Boycott them!” “The articles are right. She was totally a spy. What kind of exec fakes a resume to go to an interview?” Inside Lumina, the anonymous employee forums exploded. Derek seized the opportunity. In an emergency all-hands meeting, he fanned the flames, telling the tech teams that Vanguard was trying to steal their hard work before casting them aside like trash. He cleverly reframed my personal retaliation as a David-and-Goliath class struggle, positioning himself as the valiant savior protecting Lumina’s employees from the evil corporate empire. The crisis had escalated into all-out war. Just as the online furor reached its peak, my secure burner phone buzzed with a self-destructing encrypted message. It was from an unknown number. “Ms. Victoria, my name is Noah. I was the intern taking notes at your interview. Derek is in the VP’s office shredding files and deleting data from the core servers. He’s ordered IT to physically reformat the hard drives of several key computers. Something felt wrong, so I secretly copied down the asset tags and last-user logs for those machines.” Noah. I instantly pictured a young, clean-cut face with bright, clear eyes. During the interview, while everyone else was laughing and sucking up to their boss, he had been the only one whose face was a tight mask of disgust. When Marcus was verbally assaulting me, I’d caught a glimpse of Noah out of the corner of my eye. His brow was furrowed, his hands clenched into fists beneath the table. I had made a mental note then: this kid was different from the rest of the rot in that room. My fingers flew across the keypad. “Stay safe. Do not expose yourself or do anything to arouse suspicion. Send me everything you have. Try to recall any file names or timestamps you can.” “Will do. Please, find the truth.” A moment later, Noah’s data came through. I stared at the string of asset numbers. The user with the highest-level access on one of the wiped machines was listed as: Derek. I leaned back in my chair and let out a soft, cold laugh. Oh, Derek. You’re even dumber than I thought. You’re practically screaming your guilt from the rooftops. The very evidence you’re so desperately trying to destroy is the key that will lock you in a federal prison cell. He was stoking a firestorm of public outrage to create a smokescreen, all while frantically trying to cover his tracks. It was the move of a man utterly terrified of being caught. I was now certain of it. This rat was already lining up his next gig, ready to grab the cash and run. I immediately encrypted the data and forwarded it to my top cybersecurity team with orders to prepare their most advanced data recovery tools. Then I stood up and walked into Mr. Sinclair’s office. “The fish has taken the bait. It’s time to reel him in.” For the first time, a slow, cold smile spread across my face. Derek, by trying to bury the evidence, you’ve just shown me exactly where to dig. This is where the real game begins.

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1 Drifting between life and death, I finally understood. I could hear my wife, Seraphina, and her lover, Rick, clearly now. Rick was growing impatient. He wanted to know when she’d tell me our son wasn’t actually missing. He couldn’t wait to see the look on my face. But Sera just laughed. There was no hurry, she said. It was my fault for making her get rid of the baby years ago. This was my punishment. She’d tell me the truth once she decided I’d learned my lesson. So that was it. Four years of living hell—not a tragedy, but a sentence. A spectral tear fell. She’d gotten exactly what she wanted. It started four years ago. I’d stepped out of the car for a minute during an argument. When I returned, our son was gone. From then on, I lost my mind. I searched like a man possessed, drowning in guilt every waking moment. Her mother blamed me endlessly. My own mother cried herself to sleep each night. Sera would scream at me, telling me to die, swearing she’d divorce me if I didn’t find our boy. For four years, I gave up everything—my career, my life, my sanity. I chased 99 false leads across the country, each one carving away another piece of me. My body became a map of self-inflicted scars. Depression consumed me whole. On the 100th lead, something inside me snapped. I couldn’t go on. I swallowed a full bottle of sleeping pills. I died in my son’s nursery, wanting to be close to him in the end. Seraphina opened the bedroom door, saw I wasn’t there, and assumed I hadn’t come home yet. She turned, pulling Rick with her, and they fell onto our bed. Her voice was casual. “He probably fell for another scam artist. God knows what ditch he’s ended up in this time.” Rick roared with laughter. “It wouldn’t be the first time. I’ve never seen anyone so gullible. He believes anything anyone tells him.” “Remember that time he ran off into the mountains? Nearly didn’t make it back. When the cops found him, his clothes were torn and he was waving a knife around like a lunatic. There were three guys on the ground… who knows what happened there.” At that, the temperature around Seraphina dropped. She shoved him away. Rick knew he’d said the wrong thing. He quickly wrapped his arms around her neck, kissing her skin. “Sorry, Sera. I won’t talk about it. It’s been so long…” She flipped him onto his back, a wicked smile playing on her lips. “Don’t think for a second I’m jealous. I just can’t stand how pathetic he is.” “If he had just learned to look the other way back then, I never would have left him.” “But he has a man’s blood on his hands. He deserves every bit of this. He has no one to blame but himself.” With that, their clothes scattered to the floor. On the bed where we had made love countless times, their bodies tangled together in a desperate heat. I thought death was supposed to be the end of pain, but my heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles. I remembered it so clearly. She was the one on her knees, clinging to me. “Finn, please don’t leave me. I was drunk, I thought he was you. I’ll get rid of the baby, I swear. Just believe me.” But I couldn’t forgive her. I insisted on a divorce. She went insane, dragging Rick in front of me to apologize. Then she went and had the abortion herself. My resolve crumbled. After months of torment, I forgave her. And my reward was being played for a fool for four years. Their moans echoed through the house until the dead of night. Finally, breathless, Seraphina seemed to remember me. She frowned, looking toward the front door. “Where the hell is Finn? Not even a text to say he’s not coming home.” She picked up her phone and called me. After a few seconds of silence, my phone began to ring, its shrill tone cutting through the house. Seraphina froze, her head snapping toward the nursery. A flicker of malicious glee crossed Rick’s face, hidden behind a mask of pretend concern. “When did Finn get back? You think he heard us?” Seraphina threw on her clothes and stormed toward the nursery. I floated behind them, watching her hesitate, her hand hovering over the doorknob. Finally, with a creak, she pushed it open and walked to the bed. I was curled up under the covers. Her face flushed with anger. She thought I was ignoring her on purpose. “Finn, if you know, then there’s no point in hiding it anymore.” “Yes, I took Max. But you were the one who was wrong first.” She glanced at me, her voice flat. “As long as you don’t make trouble, we can keep living like this.” The silence stretched on for a full minute. Her expression soured. She let out a cold, sharp laugh. “You’re going to play dead with me? Fine. Let’s see how long you can keep it up!” I watched her rage, her curses washing over me. I felt nothing. I was almost curious to see the look on her face when she finally realized. She slammed the door on her way out. But a few minutes later, she returned, holding the hand of a four-year-old boy. My eyes flew open. It was him. It was my son, Max. He had my eyes. Tears streamed from my spectral form. I rushed forward to hold him, only to pass right through his small body. Seraphina’s voice was triumphant as she pushed him onto the bed. “I left him with my mother. He’s back now. Are you happy?” Then, she and Rick left again. That monster. That absolute monster! Leaving a child this small alone! In the pitch-black room, Max began to cry, his small sobs echoing in the silence. My heart shattered. I tried to comfort him, my voice a useless whisper. “Max, don’t cry, Max. Daddy’s here…” But I was the fool. The living can’t hear the dead. Max curled up next to my body, eventually crying himself to sleep. I watched him, my soul aching with a love so fierce it was agony. He had to be so scared, so hungry. Even in sleep, his face was a mask of pain. I stayed by his side all night. The next morning, he sat up, rubbing his eyes. His small voice was filled with panic. “Grandma? Where are you? Max is hungry…” He looked at the unmoving lump of my body beside him. After a moment’s hesitation, he whispered, “Mister? Can you get up and find Max something to eat?” “Max is a good boy. Just a little bit is okay.” After a long silence, he slid off the bed, his shoulders slumped. He picked up a small bottle from the floor. My soul screamed. It was the bottle of sleeping pills. There were still a few left inside. My heart leaped into my throat. Max’s face lit up. “Candy!” He shook a few pills into his palm, then glanced back at my body. “I’ll only eat three, mister,” he bargained. “I’m so, so hungry.” He raised his hand to his mouth. “NO!” I shrieked, a useless, silent sound, rushing to stop him, but I was nothing but air. The door flew open with a bang. It was Seraphina. She saw what Max was doing and her eyes widened in horror. She lunged forward, jamming her fingers into his mouth. “Spit it out! Spit it out right now!” Max started wailing, terrified. “Don’t hit me! I won’t do it again, Mommy, I promise!” Only when she was sure his mouth was empty did the color return to her face. She looked at me, her eyes filled with disgust. Before she could speak, Rick pointed an accusing finger. “Finn, what the hell is wrong with you? He’s just a kid! You could have killed him.” “I know you’re pissed that Sera took him, but you can’t take it out on Max!” He spat his venom at me, and Seraphina just stood there, watching. If they had just looked closer, they would have seen the waxy, yellow pallor of my skin, the faint, sweet smell of decay. But my last hope was misplaced. After a few minutes, she picked up Max and walked out. She took him to get lunch, but her mind was elsewhere. She checked her phone. It had been nearly two days since we had last spoken. A strange anxiety began to creep in. I never gave her the silent treatment. I had told her once, “If there’s a problem, let’s face it head-on. Don’t run from it.” Even when I’d caught her cheating, as broken as I was, I hadn’t backed down. A sudden, jarring thought hit her. Maybe something had actually happened to me. She shot to her feet, muttering to herself. “Something’s not right. This isn’t like him.” She turned to rush home, but Rick’s voice stopped her. “I saw Finn get up to eat yesterday.” Seraphina paused, turning back slowly. “He got up yesterday?” Rick nodded, a sheepish look on his face. “Yeah. I tried to talk to him, but he just told me to get lost…” Seraphina’s face hardened into a mask of pure contempt. She laughed twice, a harsh, grating sound, and sat back down. “I knew it. He was faking it. All that crap about loving his son was an act. He almost got Max killed!” I floated above them, a bitter laugh escaping my spectral lips. I wasn’t faking it. I was really dead. I looked at the triumphant smirk on Rick’s face and wondered if he’d still be smiling when the truth finally came out. I drifted back to the house and kept watch over my own body for a few more hours. My phone rang again. It was my mother. She must have known something was wrong when I hadn’t messaged her for two days. She called three times. Then, silence. Less than half an hour later, she was at the door, breathless and terrified. She rushed straight to the master bedroom. “Finn? Finn!” Not finding me, she checked the guest room, and finally, the nursery. “AH! FINN!” Her scream tore through the quiet afternoon. I couldn’t bear to watch what came next. My mother’s sobs were a physical force, shaking the whole house as she rocked my lifeless body. “How could you leave me all alone! How am I supposed to live now!” A few hours later, she took me away. When the door opened again, it was Seraphina, reeking of alcohol. She pushed Rick away and stumbled toward the nursery. “Finn, you son of a bitch, how long are you going to play dead?!” She stopped short. The bed was empty. I was gone. Her heart gave a painful lurch. A cold smile spread across her face. “Couldn’t keep up the act, huh? Decided to run away from home? Fine! Get the hell out and don’t ever come back.” She collapsed onto the living room sofa. Rick wrinkled his nose in disgust. “He could have at least cleaned up before he left. The whole place stinks. It’s making me sick.” Seraphina didn’t seem to hear him. A thought occurred to her. She went to our bedroom and yanked open the closet. All of my clothes were still there. She breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought he had some nerve. Didn’t even pack a bag. He just wants me to come begging for him to come back. Ha. In his dreams.” Her mind at ease, she even had Rick move in. “Since he doesn’t want this life, let’s see how long he can last without it.” I watched it all, a ghost in my own home. For the next few days, Seraphina partied, dragging Rick to every social event she could. But she wasn’t happy. A dark cloud seemed to hang over her, growing heavier each day. Finally, on the seventh day of my disappearance, she broke. She brought Max back to the house. She opened my messaging app and ordered Max to record a voice note. Max, terrified, wouldn’t speak. Her face darkened. “Say it!” she roared. “Are you deaf? I told you to call for your daddy! Do you hear me?!” The boy’s fear peaked, and he burst into tears. Rage consumed me. I wanted to tear her limb from limb. He was just a child. She would do anything to torment me. “Daddy… Daddy, Daddy…” She got what she wanted and sent the voice note. Finn, do you even want your son anymore? What kind of father lets him cry like this? Rick came over and put his arms around her. “Don’t be angry, Sera. If he’s going to be like this, why do you even care? The man doesn’t deserve to be a father.” Seraphina was silent for a long time, staring at her phone, which remained silent. She couldn’t take it anymore. She called me. Once. Twice. Three times. Nothing. With a crash, she threw her phone against the wall. Rick was stunned. He couldn’t understand why she was so furious. “Sera, the kid’s right here… don’t get so worked up. We can just get a divorce. It’s not worth it.” The word “divorce” seemed to stab her. Her eyes turned red. She started to laugh. “A divorce? And let him off that easy?” She took a deep breath, picked up the shattered phone, and dialed my mother. After a long series of rings, my mother answered on the last one. Before she could speak, Seraphina blurted out, “Mom, where is Finn? I need to talk to him.” My mother’s voice was a raw rasp, each word scraped from her throat. “You will never see him again in this life, you monster. I hope you’re satisfied.” Seraphina froze. Before she could ask what she meant, the line went dead. Her face flushed with rage. She cursed, then typed a furious message to my dead number. Finn, you want out? Fine. I’ll give you what you want. Get your ass back here and I’ll give you a goddamn divorce! Still no reply. Hearing the word “divorce,” Rick’s face lit up. He rushed to the bedroom to find the paperwork. But when he came back out, Seraphina was grabbing the still-sobbing Max and storming out the door. “Sera, where are you going?! Sera!” She peeled out of the driveway without a backward glance. I floated into the back seat with Max, my soul consumed by hatred. You bitch, where are you going in such a rush? You don’t care if you crash, but what about my son?! I soon saw her destination. She stood on my mother’s doorstep, panting, and began to hammer on the door. “Finn, open the door! I know you’re in there! Stop being a coward! Say what you have to say to my face!” With a slow creak, the door opened. Seraphina’s angry expression hadn’t had time to fade before it froze, replaced by a look of sheer, uncomprehending horror.

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1 The system had made me a promise: complete the mission, and the man I loved would live again. For that promise, I poured every ounce of my heart into the dark, twisted soul of Orion, the villain of this world. I endured ninety-nine deaths without ever flinching. But on my one-hundredth life, to please the woman he worshipped, he threw me to a psychopath. “You can’t die anyway,” he’d said, his voice casual. “As long as it makes Serena happy, I don’t even mind marrying you.” He would never know the system’s hidden rule: if I completed all one hundred attempts, my love would be revived, no matter the outcome. And as of this moment, I was about to vanish from his world forever, without a trace. … [Host has died 99 times. Hidden reward unlocked. Upon 100th death triggered by the target, reward will be automatically disbursed: Resurrection of Noah.] I opened my eyes to the cold floor, the large pool of blood around me already dry and cracked. I had come to this world to win over Orion, all to bring back my love, Noah. I was an orphan, adrift in a world that never wanted me. It was Noah who pulled me from the darkness. So when the system told me I could resurrect him by capturing Orion’s heart, I agreed without a second’s hesitation. I gave Orion everything. Even as he tortured me, I showed him nothing but unwavering devotion. He knew I was a player in this game, that I would be reborn after every death. He used that knowledge to inflict every cruelty imaginable, showing me no mercy. On my ninety-ninth life, he took me to a fashion show for Serena, his untouchable goddess. As he watched her on the runway, his eyes full of adoration, he humiliated me, treating me like a dog at his feet. I sat there in silence, enduring it all, refusing to leave his side. Halfway through the show, the ceiling collapsed. Shards of glittering glass rained down. Without thinking, I threw myself over Orion, letting the glass pierce my body. He shoved me off and ran—not to me, but to Serena, who stood untouched a few feet away. No one noticed me as the venue emptied. With a shard of glass buried deep in my heart, I welcomed my ninety-ninth death. It was alright. After this rebirth, I only had to die one more time, and I would have Noah back. I had barely staggered to my feet when Orion’s call came through. “Are you up? Serena and I are at City Center Hospital. Make some soup and bring it over. Now.” His voice was laced with impatience, as if every word spoken to me was an agony. The fact that I had just died for him didn’t move him in the slightest. I dragged my broken body home. Without even changing my blood-soaked clothes, I started making the soup. He was always like this, demanding that the food be made by my hand. If he found a single flaw, he’d throw the entire container, soup and all, in my face. In my sixty-seventh life, he’d scalded my face so badly it left a permanent scar. He just laughed. “What do you care? You’ll just die and reset anyway.” When I arrived at the hospital, carrying the thermos, Orion was gently tending to Serena as she lay in bed. He scowled the moment he saw me. “You didn’t even change? What if you bring germs in here?” Serena patted his hand softly, then gave me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Aurora. Orion is just worried about me.” 2 On the surface, she was defending me. But her eyes held a clear, sharp glint of mockery. Orion took the thermos, ladled out a spoonful of soup, blew on it, and brought it to Serena’s lips. She had barely swallowed when she began to cough violently. Orion panicked, patting her back frantically until her coughing subsided. Her eyes, misty with tears, drifted to the thermos. “I’m… allergic to lemon.” I stood frozen, watching her. I knew her dietary restrictions better than her own doctor. But if she decided, in this exact moment, that she was allergic to lemon, there was nothing I could do. Orion spun around, his face a mask of fury. He snatched the thermos and flung the scalding soup into my face. “Are you trying to kill her? Is that your plan? You think if Serena’s gone, you can take her place?” The heat was searing, as if it were peeling my skin away. I bit my lip, fighting back the agony, and whispered a single, slow word. “Sorry.” It didn’t matter what I said. He would never believe me. Better to just let him be the cause of my final death so I could go home. Serena watched my humiliation with a triumphant glint in her eyes before her expression melted back into one of tearful fragility. She tugged on Orion’s sleeve. “Orion, stop. Aurora didn’t mean it.” He shot me one last cold glare. “Clean it up.” I knelt, my hands stinging as shards of glass from the shattered thermos cut into my palms. I cleaned up the mess with my bare hands, as if I couldn’t feel the pain. For some reason, this seemed to agitate Orion even more. He yanked me roughly to my feet. “Can’t you use a broom? Who are you trying to play the victim for?” He shoved me aside and called for a janitor. Serena watched us, a deep frown creasing her brow, before she deftly changed the subject. “Orion, darling, you haven’t told Aurora about the dress for the exhibition yet, have you?” Orion glanced at me, his voice flat. “Serena needs a hand-stitched silk gown for next month’s gala. You’ll make it for her.” I had learned the art of intricate silk embroidery from a master artisan. It was a delicate, beautiful craft, but it was excruciating for the eyes. In my forty-sixth life, I’d worked day and night on a piece for him, all because of an offhand joke he’d made. That time, I had died from pure exhaustion, my vision permanently damaged upon revival. The doctors had warned me against any work that strained my eyes. Orion knew this. He just didn’t care. I looked at him, my eyes filled with nothing but pure, unadulterated love. “Of course. I’ll do it.” He seemed taken aback, almost flustered by the intensity of my gaze. He looked away awkwardly. “After you finish Serena’s dress… I’ll take you abroad to see a specialist.” “It’s okay, Orion. I would do anything for you. You don’t have to feel guilty.” He stared into my eyes, and for the first time, a flicker of something—emotion, perhaps—stirred in their cold depths. But I didn’t have time to care about whether he’d fix my eyes. Once I left this world, none of it would matter. Orion’s lips parted as if he were about to say more, but Serena cried out, clutching her head. “Orion…” He spun back to her instantly, forgetting I was even in the room. I had no interest in staying anyway. I returned to my small apartment and began to work. 3 If I was lucky, I’d die from exhaustion, just like last time. I couldn’t wait to see Noah again. I had been away from him for far, far too long. The embroidery required absolute concentration. A single misplaced stitch could ruin the entire piece. The design for Serena’s gown was incredibly complex, and I worked almost without sleep. My eyes were webbed with crimson threads of exhaustion. A dull throb started behind my temples. The world swam before my eyes, and I fainted, not even noticing the name “Orion” lighting up my phone screen. In my dream, a large, warm hand touched my forehead. I thought I had died, that I was finally back in my own world. I opened my eyes, my voice choked with joy. “Noah!” But the eyes I met were not Noah’s. They were Orion’s, narrowed and dangerous. “Noah. Who is that?” His grip on my wrist tightened. He repeated the question, his voice low and menacing. “Who is Noah?” I didn’t know what to say. I scrambled for a lie. “He was… a celebrity I used to have a crush on. I was dreaming about him.” It was a pathetic excuse, but after a few seconds of tense silence, he seemed to buy it. After all, my love for him was absolute. I had died for him ninety-nine times. How could I possibly have anyone else in my heart? “You certainly have time for fantasies.” He released my wrist, his expression turning cold again. The sharp click of high heels echoed from the doorway. It was Serena. She froze when she saw me with Orion. “Aurora, Orion told me you fainted working on the dress. I came as soon as I heard. I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.” She looked down, feigning guilt. Orion immediately jumped to her defense. “It has nothing to do with you. Aurora agreed to do it. She has to finish what she starts.” His tone was mocking, cruel. “After all, her pathetic life is meant to be in service to you. If I told her to die, she’d probably do it without a second thought.” His words meant nothing to me, but I had to play my part. I looked at him, my expression a mask of heartbreak and forced resignation. “Yes, Orion. I would do anything you ask. I came to this world for you.” His pupils dilated. He looked almost… panicked. He grabbed Serena and pulled her from the room, tossing a final command over his shoulder. “Just get the dress done. You don’t have to kill yourself over it.” That was new. He had never cared about my life before. I shook my head, pushing the thought away. I had to die, and soon. And I knew Serena would give me the opportunity I needed. She projected an image of angelic purity, but underneath she was venomous and selfish. She claimed she only wanted to be like a sister to Orion, but she ruthlessly destroyed anyone who got close to him. When I stood up, I realized I was on Orion’s private yacht. I walked out onto the deck. In the distance, Orion and his friends were having a party. I stood at the prow, staring at the moon, the ache for Noah growing deeper with every passing second. “There you are, Aurora.” Serena approached, a glass of champagne in her hand, a sweet smile on her face. It was a smile full of malice. “Your little tricks seem to be working. Orion’s been so much softer on you lately. But it’s a waste of time. You’ll never take him from me. Do you really think he could ever love you? With a snap of my fingers, he’d toss you aside without a second thought.” She slowly backed toward the railing, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “Aurora, what do you think he would do if he knew you pushed me overboard out of jealousy? Do you think he’d tear you limb from limb?” Before I could react, she let out a piercing scream and threw herself over the side and into the dark water. Orion was there in an instant. He dove into the sea without hesitation. A lifeboat was lowered, and soon they were both back on deck. Serena slowly came to, clutching Orion’s sleeve, her face streaked with tears. “Orion, don’t blame Aurora… she just loves you so much… I can understand. It’s all my fault.” Every eye on the yacht turned to me. “I always thought Aurora was a pathetic lapdog, but it turns out she’s a vicious one.” “She pushed Serena overboard? Everyone knows Serena is the center of Orion’s universe.” “Who the hell does Aurora think she is?” Orion’s gaze, dark and murderous, fell on me. I knew that look. It was the look he always had right before he killed me. He had two of his men drag me to a ten-foot-tall glass water tank on the deck. I can’t swim. I thrashed wildly as they threw me in. Orion looked at me as if I were already dead. “Who gave you the right to touch Serena? It seems I’ve been too lenient with you.” The foul water filled my nose and mouth. My survival instinct kicked in, and I fought my way toward the surface, but he ordered his men to keep adding more water. Laughter echoed around me, a distorted, buzzing sound in my ears. That’s right. This was it. This was my purpose. Once I died, I would see Noah. I stopped fighting. My body sank to the bottom of the tank. Orion saw my stillness and assumed it was another act. “Stop pretending, Aurora. You think this will make me let you go?” “Aurora? Aurora!” I didn’t move. “AURORA! Drain the tank! Now!” I dreamed of a life where the car crash never happened. A life where Noah and I got married, had a child. A perfect, simple life. I woke up to find Orion staring down at me, his eyes a mixture of worry and forced indifference. I looked away, a wave of disappointment washing over me. I wasn’t dead yet. “Such a clever little game, Aurora. Push Serena into the sea, then pretend to drown yourself. Were you hoping I’d feel sorry for you?” “No, Orion. I just… didn’t know what else to do.” My weak, breathless state, in his eyes, was just proof of how hopelessly I loved him. “Serena is willing to forgive you. On one condition. She’s funding a psychological experiment. They need a subject to spend one day alone in a room with a… psychopath. Don’t worry, it’s all perfectly safe. You’ll be fine.” When I didn’t answer, he frowned. “You harmed Serena—” “I’ll do it, Orion. For you, I’ll do anything.” From the moment I met him, this was the role I played. A woman so gentle, so devoted, that he was my entire world. He never believed it, so he hurt me again and again, and I just kept coming back, determined to prove my love. He reached out and gently touched my cheek. “I promise you. After this, we’ll get married.” I lowered my head and nodded. I already knew how I would die this time. And there would be no one to stop me. I entered the room. Outside, a team of researchers monitored everything. I gave Orion one last smile and stepped inside. For some reason, a sharp pain lanced through his heart. He had a sudden, overwhelming urge to stop me. But then he looked at Serena, and he hardened his resolve. It was fine. It would all be over soon. He would marry me. He would make it up to me. After all this time, he was finally realizing that a life with me… might actually be a good thing. Inside, I played along for a few hours, dodging the deranged man’s attacks to avoid suspicion. Finally, he cornered me. As the ax swung toward my head, I didn’t flinch. I smiled and met it head-on. Blood pooled on the floor. [Ding! 100th death recorded. Reward disbursed. Host is now being transported back to the real world!] “AURORA!” In my final moment, I saw Orion burst into the room, his face a mask of horror as he ran toward my body. But this time, there was no one left to answer him.

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1 My life was shattered the afternoon my parents came home three years ago, an android boy in tow. I, who had once been the apple of their eye, became the family’s resident “troublemaker” overnight. Dad always said I was more trouble than I was worth. Mom constantly compared me to Jett, the new android, my supposed younger brother. Even my sister, Isabelle, who I’d always been close to, would sneer, “What can you do besides fight me for attention?” The dam of my resentment finally broke. In a fit of rage, I shoved Jett to the ground. Mom’s face turned to stone. A sharp crack echoed through the room as her palm connected with my cheek. “He’s your brother!” she screamed. “If you were half as obedient as him, you wouldn’t be such a constant headache!” After that, I was forcibly sent to the Meridian Institute for Behavioral Correction. They called it “learning to be a good son,” a pretty lie for what it really was: a trade. They had swapped me for Jett. And today, after three long years, my family had finally come to get me. They stood at the institute’s gates, calling my name over and over, but I remained rooted to my spot, unresponsive. The director, seeing their confusion, smiled and explained to my mother, “Mrs. Evans, you have to say ‘Activate.’ Unit 1314 will not respond otherwise.” … “Activate, Unit 1314.” Mom’s voice trembled as she said it. She wasn’t sure what she was saying; she was just repeating the director’s words. My eyes lit up, like a long-dormant screen flickering to life. I rose from my chair, my posture ramrod straight, my hands hanging loosely at my sides. “Activated. Awaiting command.” Mom stared, stunned. The director’s voice chimed in from behind her. “Mrs. Evans, to better facilitate our students’ education, we’ve designed a proprietary system. The student can only be awakened by an activation command. With this, he will never disobey you.” Understanding dawned on Mom’s face. My sister, Isabelle, pushed her way to the front, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She’s five years older than me and always took pleasure in making me cry. Back then, whenever she succeeded, I’d chase her around the house until Mom yelled at both of us. “1314, bark like a dog for me.” At the command, I hunched over, stuck out my tongue, and let out a series of loud, sharp barks. Izzy burst out laughing. “Wow, Nell really has learned his lesson,” she said to our parents. “He used to whine for half an hour when we asked him to practice the piano. Now he’s so obedient, he’ll even bark on command.” Mom and Dad nodded, their eyes holding a clear glint of satisfaction with my performance. On the way home, Mom tried to make small talk. “Nell, how were your three years at the institute?” I didn’t answer. She hadn’t ordered me to. “Nell?” she said, her voice louder this time. My voice was a flat monotone, like a text-to-speech program. “Interrogative statements are not valid commands. If you require a response, please use the imperative form.” The air in the car went still. Mom’s voice caught in her throat. After a long moment, she managed, “Answer me.” “My time at the institute was fulfilling and meaningful. I completed the three core curricula: Emotional Control, Absolute Obedience, and Rational Thought. My graduation assessment was ‘Excellent,’ with the instructor’s evaluation noting me as ‘the most successful rehabilitation case of the year.’” I recited the lines verbatim, my tone devoid of any inflection, as if reading from a user manual. The back seat was silent for a long time. Then, Izzy muttered, “He sounds just like… Jett.” I kept my eyes fixed forward, my face a blank mask. The city blurred past the car window. The skyscrapers, the overpasses, the billboards—they were all different from what I remembered. At the institute, time wasn’t measured in days or months, but in commands. A day was no different from a month. The only way I could mark the passage of time was by scratching hash marks into the wall of the silence chamber. Eventually, I even forgot how to do that. By the time the car pulled into our driveway, dusk was settling. Jett was standing at the door, hands clasped in front of him, a perfect smile on his face—calibrated to reveal exactly six teeth. He looked exactly the same as he did three years ago. I remembered that day. Mom had knelt down to speak to him, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “Welcome home, Jett.” I had jumped off the sofa, eager to see my new brother, but my foot caught on something and I went sprawling. No one helped me up. They just said I was being clumsy. After that, everyone started to hate me. I wasn’t as obedient as Jett, not as thoughtful as Jett… In the end, I was the one sent away. “Welcome home, brother.” Jett’s voice was as sweet as ever. I didn’t reply. He hadn’t given the command to. Mom frowned. “You still don’t like Jett? It looks like you haven’t learned anything. Speak!” At her command, a smile instantly appeared on my face. “Acknowledged. Thank you.” Jett’s own smile never wavered, and Mom nodded, satisfied. At dinner, the family sat around the table. Jett was on Mom’s right, Izzy on Dad’s left. I was at the very end. The steam rising from my bowl carried the scent of rice, but my stomach felt nothing. At the institute, eating was defined as an “energy replenishment activity.” It had nothing to do with pleasure, nothing to do with hunger. “Let’s eat,” Mom said casually. I picked up my chopsticks at once. Rice, braised pork, green peppers… Seeing me eat the peppers, Izzy’s eyes widened. “Well, look at that. You eat green peppers now? Weren’t you the pickiest eater in the world?” I didn’t answer. I just took another bite of the peppers. The instructor had said preferences were “emotional residue,” a sign of incomplete rehabilitation. During my third month, I was locked in the silence chamber for two full days for refusing to eat green peppers. No light, no sound, no stimulation. Just darkness. When I got out, I ate the green peppers. Then the carrots, the onions, the bitter melon. I ate everything I used to refuse to touch. Mom nodded approvingly. She always liked a child who wasn’t a picky eater. Next, I reached for the peanuts. I put one in my mouth, chewed fifteen times, and swallowed. Dad’s eyes went wide. “He ate a peanut?” “Isn’t Nell allergic to peanuts? He ate one when he was little and his mouth swelled up like a sausage! We had to rush him to the ER!” Izzy put down her chopsticks, her voice filled with disbelief. “Can the institute cure allergies too?” I chewed silently, saying nothing. At the institute, you weren’t allowed to have allergies. The instructor had smeared peanut butter directly onto my arm. The skin would blister, rot, and peel, then heal, then rot again, but the allergic reaction never truly went away. A shiver ran through me. My throat began to tighten, an itch spreading across my skin. Angry red hives erupted on my face. Izzy frowned. “His face is getting red.” Mom leaned in for a closer look, her expression changing to one of horror. “That’s not a blush, that’s a reaction. Nell, stop eating! Don’t you know you’re allergic to peanuts?” My chopsticks froze in mid-air. I looked up at her, my eyes empty of emotion, my voice as steady as a recording. “Is that a command?” Mom froze for a second, but I was already struggling to breathe. Jett’s crisp voice cut through the panic. “Patient is experiencing an anaphylactic reaction. Respiratory distress is moderate. Approximately twenty-three percent of the skin is covered in hives. Recommend immediate administration of anti-allergy medication.” They snapped into action, fumbling to give me the medicine. After my breathing returned to normal, a heavy silence fell over the living room. Izzy’s voice came from the sofa. “Something’s wrong with him.” “He used to cry and throw tantrums. He wasn’t like this. He’s like… he’s like Jett!” I said nothing. She hadn’t given me the command to speak. “Can’t you just be normal?” Her voice suddenly rose to a shriek. “Stop acting like Jett! We wanted an obedient brother, not another robot!” I looked at her face. It was contorted with anger and frustration. “Please define ‘normal,’” I said flatly. The color drained from Izzy’s face. Mom and Dad looked horrified. Dad picked up the phone and called the institute. The person on the other end explained that this was a normal side effect of “deep behavioral conditioning” and that I would return to my old self in a few days. “Unit 1314 is our top student. He’s more obedient than any AI. Don’t worry, this is all part of the process.” Dad hung up and relayed the message. Mom nodded. They both seemed relieved. In the days that followed, I became the most useful tool in the house. When Mom told me to do the dishes, I cleaned them more thoroughly than Jett ever had. When Dad told me to move the planters, I moved every single one by myself. When Izzy told me to fetch her packages, I ran faster than a dog. “Nell is even more useful than Jett now,” Mom said with a laugh. Everyone agreed. Until the night Izzy forgot to deactivate me. Everyone else was asleep. I sat on the living room sofa, from dusk until dawn. When Mom came downstairs the next morning, she found me sitting in the exact same position. Her face went white. The coffee cup slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor. A woman in a white coat came to the house. She introduced herself as Dr. Wallace, a psychologist. Her voice was gentle. “Hello, Nell.” I said nothing. Mom wrung her hands nervously beside me. “You have to give him a command. He won’t speak otherwise.” Dr. Wallace gave my mother a sharp, disapproving look before turning back to me. “Tell me your name.” She used the imperative form. “Unit 1314.” Dr. Wallace’s pen paused on her notepad. “What about your real name?” “Nell Evans. But that is a former designation. Institute protocol requires graduated students to use their unit number as their official identifier.” Dr. Wallace was stunned into silence. The faces of my family members turned grim. They retreated into the study, speaking in hushed tones about things I couldn’t understand. “Post-traumatic stress… depersonalization… requires long-term therapy…” After that, things at home became strange. They started treating me with a delicate, cautious air. On Jett’s birthday, they made a difficult decision. They were sending him away. This would be his last birthday with us. The living room was filled with balloons, a two-tiered cake sitting on the table. Jett walked over to me, his smile as gentle as ever. “Happy birthday, brother.” My eyes blinked. A wire deep inside my brain felt like it had just loosened. Today was my birthday, too. No one remembered. Three years ago, on this very day, I was shoved into a car and sent to the institute. As they took me away, I cried and begged Mom to let me have a piece of my birthday cake first. She told me I could have cake when I came back, after I’d learned to be a good boy. I had learned. But the cake never came. Jett suddenly smiled. “Brother, the definition of ‘normal’ is pushing away people you don’t like. Push me. Just like you did three years ago.” I stared at him. The gentle look was gone from his eyes, replaced by a strange, flickering light. But he had given me a definition of ‘normal.’ I placed my hand on his shoulder. Before I could even push, he threw himself backwards, collapsing like a porcelain doll designed to break. The living room door swung open. Izzy stood there, holding a plate of fruit. “Nell! What are you doing?” she screamed. The fruit platter crashed to the floor. Jett sat on the ground, his eyes welling up with simulated tears. “Brother, why did you push me? I thought you didn’t hate me anymore.” He was lying. I knew he was. His tears were a program, his trembling generated by an algorithm. Mom rushed over, her expression shifting from shock to fury in a matter of seconds. “What did you do? Why did you push Jett?” “He told me to.” “You’re lying!” Jett sobbed. “Why would I ask you to push me? I just wanted to wish my brother a happy birthday…” Izzy knelt and helped Jett up, her movements delicate, as if handling fragile glass. She looked up at me, her eyes filled with bitter disappointment. “You haven’t changed at all. You spend three years at that place, come back pretending to be so obedient, and then you show your true colors the first chance you get. I knew it. A leopard can’t change its spots. He’s always been like this, jealous of Jett.” Mom’s eyes were red, not with sympathy for me, but with rage. “And we were just talking about being better to you. I was regretting sending you to that place. We were trying to figure out how to make it up to you.” She stepped closer, jabbing a finger into my chest. “And for what? You haven’t changed. You’re still the same malicious kid. You still can’t stand Jett. You put on an act for all this time and fooled every single one of us.” I opened my mouth, wanting to say it wasn’t an act, that the institute had done this to me. That they had sent me there. But I couldn’t. There was no command. “Speak!” Mom roared. “I have not received a command to ‘speak.’” Mom’s face flushed a deep crimson. Behind her, Jett sobbed softly in her arms. “He should just die,” Izzy said suddenly. The room went silent for a beat. “What did you say?” Dad asked, frowning. Izzy’s voice was so loud it seemed to rattle the windows. “I said, he should die! He’s so obedient, right? He follows every command, right? Then tell him to die! If he died, at least we’d have some peace!” The moment she finished, Jett collapsed. His body convulsed, his eyes rolled back, and foam frothed at his lips. “Jett! Jett, what’s wrong?” Mom shrieked. She cradled his head while Dad tried to revive him. Izzy was on the phone, screaming for an ambulance. They were all crowded around him. No one was looking at me. I stood in the middle of the room, watching them. No one looked at me. “Command received. Terminate.” No one heard me. They were all too busy, their faces etched with panic and fear for Jett. I slowly turned and walked towards the balcony. The night wind whipped in, cold and sharp. “Nell!” Izzy saw me first. Her shriek was shrill, the phone slipping from her hand and clattering to the floor. Mom’s head snapped around, the color draining from her face. “Nell! What are you doing?” I smiled at her, and without a moment’s hesitation, I carried out the command.

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1 The day my grandson was admitted, I jolted awake—back before it all fell apart. My daughter-in-law, Evelyn, died in the line of duty when Toby was just one. My son, Daniel, and I raised him. He was our whole world. Just before the holiday, I’d arranged for a specialist to do Toby’s surgery. I personally handed the doctor ninety-nine thousand dollars. But that night, Daniel’s voice thundered over the phone: “Dad! Toby’s surgery is tomorrow—why haven’t you paid?!” I didn’t question how the money disappeared. I just wired it again. The next day, the hospital still claimed they hadn’t received payment and were canceling the surgery. Sweating, I pulled the doctor to the billing office. The clerk showed my balance: zero. The specialist scowled. “If you don’t want the surgery, just say so. Don’t waste my time.” Terrified of delaying Toby’s care, I withdrew cash that evening and delivered it myself. But it was too late. The next day, my grandson died because his surgery was postponed. Daniel clutched Toby’s cold little body, sobbing, “Dad, did you hate him that much?” That night, my son set a fire and burned us all alive. Even as the flames took me, I still didn’t understand why the hospital never got my money. … “Grandpa, will the surgery hurt?” A gentle touch on my leg brought me back. I looked down at my grandson’s pale little face and pulled him into a hug, hot tears streaming down my cheeks. He was so small. How could he have died on that cold hospital bed? My mind raced. Why did the money I gave the hospital vanish into thin air? I had checked the card myself. With that thought, I grabbed my son and marched him to the nearest ATM. I confirmed the card held over $100,000 for the treatment. Only then did I feel a sliver of relief. Together, we went to the billing office and handed the card to the clerk on duty. “We’ve paid the fee,” I said, my voice trembling with hope. “Does this mean he can have the surgery tomorrow?” I watched with my own eyes as the clerk processed the payment. A wave of relief washed over me. “Thank God. My grandson is going to be okay.” Daniel wrapped his arms around me. “Dad, thank goodness you’re here.” Toby had a rare disease, and our only hope was a consulting surgeon from Chicago. She was a kind woman who refused any extra payment, only urging me to settle the hospital fees quickly. I just never understood why, in my past life, there was never any record of my payment, letting my grandson’s life slip away. This time, I wouldn’t let history repeat itself. I sent Daniel home to rest and stayed at the hospital by Toby’s side. The next morning, I woke to my phone ringing. It was Daniel, his voice frantic. “Dad, there’s no money on your card! The hospital just called and said I need to pay immediately. If we don’t pay soon, they’re going to cancel his spot!” For a moment, I thought I was mishearing him, trapped in a nightmare. How could the same thing be happening all over again? Before I could hang up, a doctor walked into the room. “You need to go pay the fee now, or it will be too late for the surgery.” I didn’t have time to think. I bolted for the billing office. But when the clerk pulled up my account, the balance was zero. Impossible. Daniel and I had just checked it yesterday! I made the clerk print out the account statement, checking it word by word. It was correct. There was just no money. “There’s something shady going on in this hospital!” I yelled, slamming my hand on the counter. “The card I gave you yesterday was loaded! Give me back my money! That’s my grandson’s lifeline!” The other families in line turned to stare. The clerk’s face flushed with anger. “Don’t make wild accusations, sir. Our system is monitored. We couldn’t take a cent of your money if we wanted to! Look for yourself, you haven’t paid a single bill since you were admitted. We were being generous just letting you stay!” He gestured to the line behind me. “There are other people waiting. Can you please not cause a scene?” The other families, assuming I was harassing the clerk, started to shove me away. I was an old man; I couldn’t argue with a crowd. They pushed me out, and I stood there helplessly, my mind a complete blank. The clerk sighed and led me back to his office. He opened the main system. “Sir, look for yourself. It shows no payment has been made.” “I came here yesterday afternoon,” I pleaded, shaking my head. “Check the security footage. I was really here, with my son. We even checked the balance at the ATM first.” He reluctantly submitted a request to his supervisor. The logs confirmed that I had indeed come to the billing office. But the cameras had a blind spot; they couldn’t confirm if the card I’d handed over was the same one we’d checked at the ATM. I wouldn’t give up. The clerk’s patience wore thin. “Sir, if you’re still concerned, you should call the police.” That’s what I was thinking. The police could see details others missed. But before I could dial, Daniel’s call came through. “Dad, you’ve ruined everything,” he choked out. “The surgeon just booked a flight back to Chicago. It leaves in two hours. My son’s surgery is off!” I ran like a madman to the inpatient wing and caught the surgeon just as she was getting into the elevator. She was pulling a suitcase, a look of annoyance on her face. “Sir, it’s not that I don’t want to save your grandson, but the hospital says you haven’t paid. I can’t very well fund the surgery myself, can I?” I grabbed the handle of her suitcase, tears streaming down my face. “Doctor, please, give us one more chance. I’ll pay right now. I’ll do a direct transfer this time, so there’s a record!” She hesitated, glancing at her watch. “My flight boards in an hour and a half. If you can get it done before then, I’ll cancel my ticket.” I thanked her profusely and sprinted back towards the billing office, calling my son on the way. “Daniel, send me your account number! I’ll transfer the money to you directly, and you go pay!” His voice trembled. “Dad, isn’t your card empty?” “It’s not! The hospital’s system is messed up. I’m sending you the money now. The second you get it, go to the billing office. I’m heading there too.” I hung up, opened my banking app, and transferred the last of my savings—over eighty thousand dollars—plus another twenty I’d borrowed from relatives. I sent the full one hundred thousand to Daniel’s account. I took a screenshot and saved it. Panting, I reached the billing office and slapped the counter. “My son is coming to pay right now! Please, hold my grandson’s spot for the surgery!” The clerk looked up. It was the same one from yesterday. He sighed. “Sir, there really is no money in your account. Our system…” “I know, I know! We’re not using that account. My son is paying with his card directly.” Just then, my phone rang. It was Daniel. “Dad, how much did you send?” “One hundred thousand exactly. Did you get it?” He checked his phone. “Got it!” he said, a wave of relief in his voice. “I’m on my way to pay now!” The clerk looked relieved too. “Then have him hurry over.” Ten minutes later, Daniel arrived. I urged him to the counter. The clerk took the card, inserted it into the machine, and immediately pulled it out. “There are no funds on this card. Try another one.” Daniel froze, then shot me a furious glare. “Dad, when are you going to stop this nonsense? You said you transferred the money, but you were just lying to me again!” “But you just said you received it…” I stammered. “That was the pension payment for Evelyn’s fallen colleague!” he roared. “It wasn’t your money at all!” He shoved me aside and stormed back toward the ward. “Your system has to be the problem!” I yelled, grabbing the clerk. “You saw me transfer the money to my son! How can the card be empty the moment you touch it?” The clerk stood up, his face cold. “Sir, if you continue to cause a disturbance, I will call the police.” “Go ahead! Let the police see how your hospital steals a patient’s life savings!” The police arrived quickly. They calmed me down, then logged into the system and contacted the bank to verify my transaction history. The truth came out swiftly. “Sir, you’re mistaken,” the officer said gently. “Your account has no recent transfer records. Your behavior constitutes a public disturbance, but considering your age and the circumstances, the hospital has agreed not to press charges. Please, just focus on getting the money for the surgery.” I collapsed. How could this be happening? Where did my money go? Daniel, hearing the commotion, rushed back, his face a mask of fury. “Dad, can you just stop?! My son is sick, I can barely eat or sleep, and you’re making these scenes! If I hadn’t donated all my savings, I wouldn’t need you to pay for this! If you keep this up, you can stop being my father!” I grabbed his arm desperately. “I’m not making a scene! I really did transfer the money! Son, when have I ever lied to you?” He hesitated for a second, but his anger quickly returned. “Should I believe you, or should I believe the system? You know what, ever since Mom died, you’ve gotten stranger and stranger. I’ll figure this out myself. I don’t need you.” He was the child I had cherished my entire life. His words, “I don’t need you,” shattered me. I grabbed him and pulled him towards the exit. “Cash! Son, we’ll get cash and pay. There can’t be any problems then!” I dragged him into the bank. He was fuming, but he followed me to the counter. I slapped my passbook on the counter. “I need to withdraw one hundred thousand dollars. All of it. In cash.” This was my retirement account. It was the last of my money. The teller looked at me, typed a few things into her computer, and confirmed, “Sir, your account balance is $100,370. You’d like to withdraw an even one hundred thousand?” I nodded, my fingers digging into the edge of the counter. She counted the bills, bundled them, and placed a thick stack of currency in the tray. “Please count it, sir.” I didn’t. I pushed it toward my son. “You count it.” He stared for a moment, then counted it, bundle by bundle. “$100,000. It’s all here.” I stuffed the money into a canvas bag, clutched it to my chest, and ran with him back to the hospital. It was the same clerk at the billing office. I put the bag on the counter and pulled out the stacks of cash. “One hundred thousand dollars. Cash. You see it? Now give me a receipt. My grandson’s surgery cannot be delayed again.” The clerk looked at me, then at the money. He ran a few stacks through the bill counter. Everything checked out. He nodded, typed into his computer, and handed me a thin payment voucher. “Alright, it’s paid. I’ll make a note on the surgical schedule. Just wait for the notification.” I held that flimsy piece of paper, my hands shaking. I turned and threw my arms around my son, the tears finally coming. “Daniel, look! It’s paid! Toby is saved!” Daniel cried too, holding me tight. That night, I stayed by Toby’s bedside, not daring to leave for a second. He slept soundly, his little hand wrapped around my finger. Seeing him like that, I saw a vision of Daniel as a child, so small, clinging to my hand when he had a fever, refusing to let me go. If Toby could just get through this, he would grow up strong, just like his father. My heart filled with hope. I didn’t sleep a wink. I stared at the clock on my phone, praying for morning, for the nurse to come with the surgery time. Just as the sky began to lighten, I heard footsteps in the hall. Thinking it was the nurse, I jumped to my feet. The door opened. It was Daniel. His face was as white as a sheet, his eyes red and swollen. He was clutching his phone, looking completely hollowed out. “Dad.” My heart seized. “When is the surgery?” He didn’t answer. He just handed me his phone. On the screen was a text message from the hospital: 【Dear patient family, your surgical fees have not yet been paid. Please proceed to the billing office as soon as possible to avoid treatment delays.】 I stared in disbelief. “That’s impossible! I paid $100,000 in cash yesterday! They gave me a receipt!” Daniel angrily pulled the hospital payment card from his bag and threw it at me. “I checked this morning! There’s not a single cent in the account! This is your fault! You told me to deposit the money into this account! Why didn’t you tell me there was a problem with it? Why did you have to risk Toby’s surgery?” The phone buzzed. A message from the surgeon: 【Sir, I’m sorry, I can’t wait any longer. The surgery is canceled. I wish your son a speedy recovery.】 Down the hall, I heard the sound of a suitcase rolling away, growing fainter and fainter. Daniel sank to the floor, covered his face, and let out a strangled sob. “Dad, if Toby… if he doesn’t make it because of this… I will never, ever forgive you! I hate you!” I stood frozen, a chill spreading through my entire body. His words were knives, but I didn’t have time for the pain. I immediately called the surgeon. “Doctor, please, just one more chance. I’ll sell my house. I’ll have the money then. I swear I’ll pay the fee.” There was a pause on the other end. “Sir, do you know how many times I’ve rescheduled my flight? Four times. I have other patients to save. This back and forth… are you truly serious about getting your child treatment, or…?” She didn’t finish, but her meaning was clear. “I swear, Doctor,” I begged. “This time it’s real. I’m going to sell the house right now. Just give me one more day. Just one.” A sigh. “Alright. One last day.” I didn’t have time to grieve. After promising Daniel I’d fix it, I rushed to the police station. But after reviewing everything, they found nothing wrong. By the time I left, it was dark. I thought of the relatives I’d borrowed from and started calling. “Arthur, I heard what happened. You need to take care of that boy, stop making up these wild stories.” “Your son told me everything. You knew you had no money, but you insisted the hospital stole it and even got the police involved. Arthur, are you getting senile?” “Let me give you some advice. Be good to that child. Otherwise, you’ll end up old and alone with no one to even bury you.” Every single one of them refused me. I squatted on the sidewalk and cried for a long time. When I stood up, the world tilted. I almost collapsed. Late that night, I finally made it back to my small rental apartment. Daniel and Toby lived in the small house I’d bought for them, the down payment made with my life’s savings, the deed in my son’s name. As dawn broke, an idea came to me. I washed my face and went back to the hospital. Daniel was sitting by the bed, staring at me. His eyes were lifeless, as if he’d been completely hollowed out. I didn’t notice. I was too consumed by my plan. “Daniel, I have an idea.” He looked up, no light in his eyes. “We can take out a mortgage on your house,” I said, the words tumbling out. “We’ll pay it back as soon as I get my money back.” “It’s no use…” he mumbled. “What are you talking about? If we just try one more time, we can save Toby!” I insisted. “Go, don’t waste any more time. I already told the surgeon to wait one more day.” He remained motionless. Seeing his despair, I felt a surge of frustration and threw the property deed at him. “Stop moping and go!” He mechanically opened the deed. After one glance, he ripped it in half and threw it back at me. “Dad, how many years have you been lying to me?” I was stunned. “What’s wrong?” “This house! The name on the deed isn’t mine! And it’s not yours either! Dad, you told me you bought this for me with your life savings! The deed is a fake! What else have you been hiding from me?” His voice grew louder, drawing nurses and other patients. “You wanted me to mortgage it? Were you trying to humiliate me? Did you ever even want to save Toby?” “No, Daniel, I swear I didn’t know…” “Enough!” He buried his face in his hands, his whole body shaking with sobs. “It doesn’t matter now! Nothing matters!” Before I could react, he yanked the blanket off Toby. “He’s gone! He couldn’t wait for your money anymore! Dad, just go. I don’t ever want to see you again. You’ve never told me the truth about anything. If it weren’t for you, my son wouldn’t have had to die!” I collapsed to the floor. How? How could he still be dead after I’d been given a second chance? Something was wrong, terribly wrong. Daniel was completely broken. He lunged for the window. “Toby’s gone, I don’t want to live anymore!” In that split second, a memory flashed in my mind, so sharp it was like a physical blow. “Stop! I know where the money went!”

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