Author: Momo Chan

When Chloe moved into my house, my mom split her love in half. Chloe took the lion’s share, and I got the scraps. “You still have a dad, but Chloe has no one.” So she justified her blatant favoritism. Later, I stopped wanting my mom. Unlike my mom, I couldn’t divide my love. I gave all my love to my new mom. 1 My mom said she couldn’t attend my parent-teacher conference. “Why?” My voice was thick with unshed tears. “Didn’t you promise?” Over the phone, her voice was cold: “Just because I promised doesn’t mean I have to go. Chloe’s homeroom teacher called; I have to go to hers, and it conflicts with yours.” “Chloe, Chloe, Chloe!” I finally lost control, yelling into the phone. “All you see is Chloe! You haven’t been to my parent-teacher conference in three years!” Three years. From middle school to high school. The high school entrance exams were fast approaching! My mom hadn’t attended a single parent-teacher conference during my middle school years. This time, my usually gentle homeroom teacher had a serious expression: “Maya, you must have your mother come this time. With the entrance exams only a hundred days away, your grades have dropped too much.” I had told my mom about this five days in advance. I thought she would care at least a little. But once again, she chose Chloe. On the other end of the line, my mom’s voice was full of coldness and impatience: “Maya, Chloe has no parents. Are you really going to fight her for her aunt? Why are you so ungrateful?” “But…” Tears welled in my eyes, and my throat tightened so much I couldn’t speak. But, Chloe’s aunt… is my mother! I didn’t cause Chloe to lose her parents, so why do I have to give my mother to her as compensation? When I handed the phone back to the bookstore owner, he looked at me with a strange expression. I handed him a dollar. I had two hundred dollars left in my pocket. I had saved it up over months of skipping breakfast, originally planning to buy test prep books. Thankfully, I had asked my mom a day in advance, giving me time to prepare. I was going to use this two hundred dollars to hire a mom to attend my parent-teacher conference. 2 The mom I hired didn’t look like a good person. She wore heavy smoky makeup, leaned against the school’s iron fence counting the money, and reeked of cheap perfume. Even as the Dean of Students walked by, she was still grumbling, “All these small bills? This is so annoying.” I had saved this money dollar by dollar; of course, it was in small bills. I thought she was unreliable and was about to ask for the money back and find someone else. But she quickly backed away to a safe distance and waved the wad of cash: “It’s a deal! Tomorrow afternoon, third period! I’ll come find you! “Room 308, right?” “Don’t wear that makeup tomorrow!” Too unreliable. That was my two hundred dollars! Maybe I should try to find someone else? But she had already run off. I wanted to call out to her, but the Dean was walking toward me— He spotted the money in the woman’s hand and asked with concern, “Student, are you being extorted by someone from outside the school?” “No, no,” I answered quickly. “That’s my mom. She was going to give me some pocket money, but I said no.” Good thing she ran fast. 3 “Your name is Sarah Smith,” I told her to put it in her phone’s notes app. “My name is Riley Jones,” she said, blinking her large eyes. She was dressed just like yesterday: exaggerated smoky makeup, pale foundation, a brown leather jacket, and the same cheap perfume. Only when her thick, fan-like fake eyelashes fluttered could I catch a glimpse of her beautiful eyes. But that look didn’t move me. “My mom’s name is Sarah Smith, so your name is Sarah Smith.” I mimicked my mom’s tone when haggling at the grocery store. “Be professional. Didn’t I tell you yesterday not to dress like this?” “I have to dress like this,” she mumbled. A moment later, she smiled and said, “Take me to your classroom. Room 308, right?” On the way, she wouldn’t stop talking. “Will your homeroom teacher keep me after to lecture me? I’m telling you, the two hundred bucks doesn’t cover getting lectured.” “You didn’t say that earlier!” I stopped in the hallway. “That’s the going rate, okay?” she said impatiently. “Ugh, fine! Consider it a freebie! “Consider it my charity work for the day, okay?” She had a very casual, street-smart attitude: “Don’t be so fierce, kid.” I wasn’t being fierce. I was just a little anxious. She didn’t know that the two hundred dollars was all the money I had. I had to skip lunch to save up for the test prep books. If she charged more, I’d have to skip dinner too. But her sudden generosity made me breathe a sigh of relief. Standing at the classroom door, I awkwardly mumbled, “Thanks.” “Hey, don’t mention it.” She waved her hand and was about to walk in. But I suddenly remembered something— “Um… Riley,” I called out to her. “Yeah?” My face flushed slightly: “Could you do me one more favor?” She gave me a look that said “don’t push your luck.” But I guess my desperation overrode my shame, and once the words were out, the rest flowed easily: “There are two students in my class, one named Jason and one named Lily. “Could you talk to them and their parents? Just say you’re my mom, you know what they’ve been doing to me, and if they dare do it again, you won’t let them off easy…” “Fuck!” Riley cursed. I didn’t know why she was swearing. “Is this extra? How much? Let me think…” Before I could finish my sentence. “You’re being bullied?” Her face darkened. With a wave of her hand, she marched into the classroom: “This service is free of charge!” 4 Riley was not professional at all. During the parent-teacher conference, all the students waited outside. I watched Riley rummage through my desk through the window. The teacher glanced at her a few times, but she just scowled and flipped through my books and notebooks, ignoring everything going on around her. The more she flipped, the heavier the hostility in her expression grew. I questioned myself again whether hiring her to play my mom was a mistake. This doubt reached its peak when Mia, from the class next door, walked out. The “hire-a-parent” service was actually introduced to me by Mia. She was the slacker of the class next door, but her parents were very strict. Terrified of them scolding her after the conference, she hired someone to go in their place. To avoid being caught, she even left the “fake parent’s” phone number with the teacher. She peered through the glass at my seat: “That’s who you hired? Look at her, what, fifty or sixty bucks tops?” Fifty or sixty? I stood frozen. “Don’t tell me you gave her a hundred!” Mia exclaimed. “I paid 80, and that included answering phone calls from the teacher!” Me: “…” 5 The parent-teacher conference ended. Before Riley rushed to confront Jason and Lily, I thought to myself: I need to get at least a hundred dollars back. But when she found those two students’ parents to reason with them, I realized eighty dollars would have been enough. Especially Jason’s dad, a large, burly man who tried to argue back. But Riley quickly shut him down, brandishing my textbook and attacking him with sharp, pointed words… The classroom was chaotic, and her loud voice drew a crowd of onlookers. The two parents, feeling embarrassed, grabbed their kids and ran. Riley walked out of the classroom looking victorious. “Wait, the teacher will probably want to see us in a minute. Leave after everything is done,” I told her. I didn’t ask for a partial refund right away. I wasn’t stupid. If I asked for the money back now, what if she refused to cooperate when the teacher wanted a one-on-one chat? “Those parents will definitely lecture them when they get home.” The homeroom teacher was surrounded by parents at the podium and didn’t have time for her, so she stood in the hallway chatting with me: “But they’ll definitely hold a grudge, and they might try to bully you again. Do you want to hire me to scare them a few more times?” she eagerly pitched her services. “Only thirty dollars a pop.” I recalled her fierce demeanor just now. Jason and Lily were definitely intimidated by her. I highly doubted they’d try to bully me again. She probably just wanted to squeeze more money out of me. I knew what she was doing, but to ensure she performed well shortly, I nodded in agreement. “Hey!” she snapped her fingers. “Told you I’m high quality and reasonably priced, right?” “High quality and reasonably priced” my foot! We didn’t have to wait long. Soon, the homeroom teacher came out of the classroom. Seeing Riley, she frowned first, then asked: “Maya’s parent?” She stood up straight in a second: “Yes, teacher! I’m Sarah Smith!” The homeroom teacher gave her a strange look: “Come to the office. We need to talk about Maya.” “You got it!” Riley happily trotted into the classroom and brought out my books and notebooks— 6 I actually had a vague idea of what Riley was going to say to the homeroom teacher. I was even a little expectant. “Maya’s parent, a child’s education isn’t just the school’s responsibility. Since Maya joined our class, I’ve never seen you. I understand you’re busy—” She glanced at Riley’s attire. “But, the child’s grades have dropped severely, from the top ten in her grade to past the top hundred. Don’t you care at all about what’s going on with her?” Riley shrugged. Thinking she was being defiant, the homeroom teacher was about to say more. But Riley spread open my textbooks: “I probably don’t care enough about Maya. But her drop in grades has nothing to do with that.” The teacher stared at her, seemingly shocked that a parent could be so irresponsible. But Riley tapped her finger on the pages: “Teacher, did Maya talk to you? “About her being bullied?” Those were the most disgusting pages among all the scribbled-on books. In the margins, between the formulas, it was filled with vile insults— [Bitch!] [Who are you trying to seduce?] [Do you have no shame?] Riley read them out loud, one by one: “This is just one page. Teacher, did Maya show you these? “Being insulted like this, how could she not have a mental breakdown? How could it not affect her studies? How strong a heart would it take to endure this? “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice?” The homeroom teacher hadn’t noticed. When I sought her out, when I told her I was being verbally humiliated and bullied… I showed her the pages, and she looked at them. But she just casually said: “Okay, okay, I’ll talk to them later. I’m so busy. Can’t you just get along with your classmates? Why is there so much drama?” Now, she was left speechless by the questioning. It took her a long time to ask: “You… you just now…” It turned out she had also seen Riley confronting the two parents for an explanation. But Riley ignored her response. “Yes, earlier I did what a mother is supposed to do. “And you, teacher? Have you done what a teacher is supposed to do? “Teacher, if you had, you wouldn’t have had to specifically ask to speak with me. “She would have adjusted her mindset herself, and might even be first in the school right now!” 7 After leaving the teacher’s office, I was still hesitating whether to ask for some of the money back. She did a great job, better than I imagined. But it was too expensive. A hundred dollars would make my life much easier for the next few days. She walked forward with her head down, mumbling to herself, completely oblivious to my inner struggle. “Your books are ruined, just buy a new set. They wouldn’t dare draw on your books again. “What kind of weirdo is your homeroom teacher? She really doesn’t care at all? How is she even a homeroom teacher?” I didn’t answer. Actually, the homeroom teacher didn’t completely ignore everyone. She had intervened when other students were bullied before. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have sought her help when I first started getting bullied. Later, after I pestered her several times, she finally agreed to help resolve the issue. But the ultimate solution was just vaguely criticizing the behavior in front of the class without naming names. As soon as that class meeting ended, Lily cornered me in the restroom and even got physical: “You little bitch! You told the teacher, huh?” Later, I wondered why the homeroom teacher would extend a helping hand to others but was so impatient with me. After thinking about it, I figured it was because my grades had dropped too much, and she didn’t like me. Also… she had asked to see my parents multiple times, but they never showed up. So, subconsciously, she probably realized I was a child no one cared about. A child whose own parents didn’t care about. She had no obligation to care either. “By the way,” Riley suddenly asked me, “has your mom really never been to a parent-teacher conference? Is she dead?” I didn’t have time to answer. Because the next moment, someone grabbed my sleeve. “Maya.” Chloe revealed a gloating smile. “Who is she? Why are you walking with someone dressed like a delinquent? “And why isn’t she scolding you for saying your aunt is dead?” 8 Slap— A sharp pain exploded on my cheek, instantly turning it burning hot. My ears rang. My mom did manual labor, and she was strong. It took me a long time to recover from that slap. “Auntie,” Chloe called softly. “Chloe, don’t stop me.” My mom yanked me so hard I stumbled. She looked at the homeroom teacher, an apologetic smile on her face: “I’m so sorry, teacher. This child has been a handful since she was little. I didn’t expect her to hang out with people outside of school, let alone have the nerve to bother you.” “What are you doing?!” Riley reacted and tried to stop her. But before she could get close, my mom shoved her away. Riley’s frame was too small. No matter how sharp her words were, they were useless against a “mature” woman like my mom, who resorted to vulgar curses and low blows. My mom cursed her out, then pointed at her: “I’m disciplining my own daughter! Is it your place to interfere? Just you wait, I’m calling the cops right now and pressing fraud charges! How much money did you scam out of Maya?” She glared at me again: “Where did you get the money? You have spare cash? Everyone in the family is strapped for cash, and you have money to hire someone to play your parent?! “Where did you get the money? Have you been doing shameless things?!” I couldn’t bear to listen anymore. I hadn’t cried from her slap just now, but seeing Chloe standing nearby with her arms crossed, looking at me with a detached, mocking gaze, I finally couldn’t hold back my tears. I felt ashamed. My mother was using the ugliest words to insult me. While the spoiled girl she doted on stood aside, watching me—her closest blood relative—being treated like I meant absolutely nothing to her. Just a moment ago, they figured out Riley was hired by me. My mom dragged me all the way from the hallway to the homeroom teacher’s office. During that time, Riley couldn’t help but laugh out loud: “So your mom isn’t dead!” My mom became even more furious. She clamored about calling the police, wanting to throw Riley in jail! “Call them!” Riley yelled back. “Call the cops and let them see! You’re a mother who doesn’t even know her own child is being bullied at school! A teacher who turns a blind eye to toxic behavior in the classroom! What a great role model! “I earned this two hundred dollars with my labor! I suffered emotional trauma! I was disgusted by you people! “What? You act like you’re dead and refuse to attend your daughter’s parent-teacher conference, and you won’t even let her hire someone to do it?!” The homeroom teacher quickly said there was no need to call the police. “Maya! Look what kind of friends you make! How can she talk to your aunt like that?” When the argument was at its fiercest, Chloe shouted loudly, trying to shift the focus back to me. And my mom, predictably, gave her exactly what she wanted. “She cares? How could she care? Those words are probably what she wanted to say!” My mom snapped her head toward me and grabbed my hair tightly. “Others don’t get bullied, only you get bullied, right? “Why are you the only one causing so much trouble? “Chloe and you go to the same school, she’s even a grade below you. Why doesn’t Chloe get bullied, only you? “You hang out with these lowlifes in society, of course you get bullied! Why should the teacher care about you? It’s up to you to be good at school. Does the teacher owe you?” “You motherf—!” Riley interrupted from the side. “You have time to attend your niece’s parent-teacher conference, but no time for your daughter’s, right? “Could this niece be your illegitimate daughter?” she lunged forward, trying to free my hair. “Let go, let go of her, you bitch!” Initially, I felt complete despair. When my mom called me a worthless person. When she demanded to know why others only bullied me. When even the homeroom teacher looked at me with pity. But, the moment Riley lunged forward and pulled my hair outward, for some unknown reason, I felt a surge of strength… It felt like… all the pent-up resentment of years finally found an outlet… With one hand, I shoved my mom hard just as she was about to slap Riley. Despite her strong build, my mom stumbled backward. “Auntie!” Chloe moved to support her. “Enough!!” My scalp throbbed with pain. I screamed with all my might. “What do you want to do? Keep making a scene! Keep going! Make a scene until security comes! Call the police right now!” “Are you crazy?” My mom was stunned by my roar. No wonder. She had seen countless versions of me. The gloomy me, the insecure me, the me begging for just a tiny bit of motherly love. But the stubborn, loud, rebellious me had disappeared long ago, right after Chloe moved into our house. The classroom fell silent. The look my mom gave me was a mix of shock and grievance. What did she have to feel aggrieved about? My heart ached, and I spoke hoarsely through tears: “You just asked me why they don’t bully anyone else, only me? “Mom, it’s all thanks to you. “Do you remember when I asked you to help me buy a bra? “Do you remember what you said?” 9 I had an unfortunate nickname: “Bunny.” And it didn’t mean cute and cuddly like a real bunny. It referred to the “bunnies” bouncing up and down on my chest when I ran. The first time I felt insecure about my chest was during a P.E. class. The gym teacher had us run the 800 meters. I was in the last group to run. By the time I started running, the finish line was already crowded with my classmates. My eyes were only fixed on the finish line, so I didn’t pay attention to the classmates standing there—both boys and girls—who were already laughing uncontrollably. Before I even caught my breath, Jason, whom I rarely interacted with, came right up to my face, making exaggerated gestures: “Maya, let me give you a nickname. How about ‘Bunny’?! “You know, the ‘bunnies’ jumping up and down when you run!” At first, I didn’t understand, but his gaze drifted downwards, slimy and gross. Other classmates burst into jeering laughter. Like a flash of lightning, I instantly realized what he was talking about and shoved him hard. The bullying initially started with this simple nickname. The next day, my desk was covered in scribbles. In the quiet classroom before class started, I stood up, scanned the room, and saw Lily staring at me self-righteously, her gaze meeting mine head-on… My desk mate, Emma, gently tugged my sleeve and whispered: “Lily wrote it. Everyone saw, but no one dared to say anything. “I heard she and Jason are dating, and she said you were seducing him when you were running yesterday. “But seriously, you should wear a bra!” If her first sentence left me feeling baffled, her next sentence left me mortified. “I… I am wearing one!” I explained. “That’s a training bra!” she whispered even lower. “I mean a real bra! A training bra can’t support you! Didn’t your mom teach you any of this?” “I…” My face turned even redder. “I’ll try…” Actually, who notices physical development earlier than oneself? I had noticed a long time ago that my training bra was feeling a bit tight. I nervously told my mom, asking her to buy me a bra with padding. But as soon as I finished speaking, she frowned and said fiercely: “Money, money, money! We only have so much money, raising the two of you. You don’t know how to be frugal. Do you want us to starve?” But it was only ten dollars. A bra at the wholesale market cost ten dollars at most. And my mom said “raising the two of you,” but I hadn’t had an allowance outside of lunch money for half a year. Before Chloe came, I got ten dollars a week for allowance. I could at least buy some snacks or something. That wasn’t a problem. After Chloe arrived, it was as if my mom forgot about me. She would buy Chloe pretty clothes and sign her up for extracurricular activities… I used to have extracurriculars too. But the month Chloe was signed up for hers, my dad’s paycheck happened to be a little short. “Maya, I feel like your swimming class isn’t doing much. Let’s pause it for a bit, okay? “Yield to Chloe a little,” she said. “Chloe just came to our family, just consider it being considerate of mom. It’s not easy for mom either.” But I never thought that this “yielding” would last for three whole years. From the tutoring classes at first, to my bedroom, to my home, and finally, even the money for my bra had to be yielded. My mom didn’t take me to buy a new bra. So, I figured out how to save money from my breakfast allowance to go buy a bra myself. The owner at the wholesale market wouldn’t let me try it on, and I had no experience haggling. The bra I bought was a bit small. When I went back to the seller, she refused to exchange it. But it was fine, it was much better than the training bra I had before. However, after wearing it for three years, the straps inevitably became loose, and it couldn’t keep up with my developing body. I thought it was time for a new one. But I never expected that I had already reached the point where I needed to wear a real bra.

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During my last live interview, the host asked me, “If you weren’t in the entertainment industry, what would you be doing?” I answered casually, “I’d go home and inherit my family’s billion-dollar fortune.” With that one sentence, I immediately trended on Twitter. Everyone was mocking me, a D-list, no-name actress, for having such delusional fantasies. But after I left the industry, I actually became a major player behind the scenes in Hollywood. 1 Live interview. Chloe and I were on a show together because of a TV drama we co-starred in. We debuted at the same time. Five years in the entertainment industry, and I was still that lukewarm, D-list actress, while Chloe had long become an A-list superstar. During the interview, almost all of the host’s questions revolved around Chloe. I sat on the side like a prop. But after all these years, I was used to it. The live chat was also filled with cheers for Chloe. The occasional comment about me was just mocking me. [They debuted at the same time, but one is in heaven and the other is in the dirt. How does Maya have the nerve to be on the same show as Chloe? Isn’t she embarrassed?] [I heard Maya even had rumors with Liam, the Best Actor, back then.] [LMAO, how could Liam be with Maya? Maya definitely just wanted to create ship buzz with our Best Actor!] [Liam and Chloe are the perfect match.] Perfect match?! Looking at the comments in the live stream, I couldn’t help but sneer inwardly. Back then, I was dating Liam. But because he and Chloe worked together on a TV drama, I got cheated on. And from beginning to end, Liam never publicly acknowledged me. Now, people still dig it up to mock me, saying I threw myself at him and he didn’t even care. “Chloe, if you leave the entertainment industry, what would you do?” the host asked Chloe. “A housewife, maybe,” Chloe hesitated for a moment, answering with a soft smile. The live chat went crazy again. [Ahhhhh, are Chloe and Liam going to announce something?] [I heard they’ve already met each other’s parents.] [My OTP must make it to the end, otherwise, I’ll never believe in love again!] [Some people really need to know their place and stop trying to be the other woman.] “The chat is saying you and Liam might have some good news coming up,” the host teased. “No, you guys are misunderstanding,” Chloe quickly clarified. “Although things are very stable between Liam and me right now, we are still focusing on our careers. If there really is any good news, Liam and I will let everyone know immediately.” “Then why do you have the idea of becoming a housewife?” the host asked smoothly. “Because housewives are very great. My mother is a housewife. I admire her very much. Without her, I wouldn’t be where I am today. So if I ever really leave the industry, I will return to family life.” [Chloe has such good values. Whoever marries her is lucky.] [Chloe comes from a wealthy family. The education she received from a young age is different from ordinary people.] [Genuine question: Is Chloe’s family background really that good?] [Just search up the Vance family of Los Angeles online and you’ll know. Not the richest in L.A., but definitely top three on the wealth list.] I frowned. When did the Vance family of Los Angeles have anything to do with Chloe?! At this moment. The host suddenly turned and asked me, “Maya, if you leave the industry, what will you do?” Probably feeling a bit guilty for ignoring me the whole time. I thought for a moment and answered very seriously, “Go home and inherit my family’s billion-dollar fortune.” 2 “What?” The host thought she misheard. She repeated the question, “I just asked, what do you want to do after leaving the industry?” “Go home and inherit the family business,” I said frankly. The five-year deadline had arrived. When I insisted on entering the entertainment industry, I made a three-point agreement with my family. If I didn’t make any progress in the industry within five years, I had to go home and inherit the family business. A few days ago, my billionaire father even called to remind me. “May I be so bold as to ask, what does your family do that requires you to go back and inherit it?” the host asked me, amused, her tone carrying a hint of sarcasm. Sitting next to me, a flash of mockery also passed through Chloe’s eyes, though it was fleeting. After all, it was a live broadcast. In front of millions of netizens, Chloe had to maintain her persona, so she naturally wouldn’t show any real emotion. “A little bit of everything. Mostly commercial investments,” I answered. It really did involve too many fields to explain clearly at once, so I spoke in general terms. But in the eyes of others, they felt I was lying and being evasive. At this moment, the live chat went crazy again. [What exactly is Maya competing with Chloe for? Just now someone said Chloe comes from a wealthy family, and now Maya says she’s going home to inherit a billion-dollar fortune?] [You can’t even joke like that. She just can’t stand that Chloe is better than her in every way, right?] [If she has a billion-dollar fortune, I’ll eat shit live!] [So disgusting. She can’t compare to Chloe, so she starts scamming, saying her family has a billion-dollar fortune? LMAO, who would believe that?!] Watching the comments, I also got a bit angry. I wanted to explain. The host directly said, “Maya is very humorous and knows how to liven up the atmosphere in our live stream. Fans shouldn’t take it too seriously.” It seemed like she was helping me out, but in reality, she just didn’t believe me. She even slapped me in the face publicly. “I’m telling the truth…” I was speechless. “Next up, Chloe’s fans really want me to ask you some questions.” The host didn’t give me a chance to speak at all. “They really want to know how your skin is so good, what’s your skincare routine?” Chloe answered the host’s questions one by one, and the atmosphere between the two was very harmonious. For the next almost half an hour of the interview, I didn’t get to say another word. The live stream ended. Everyone walked out of the studio. Chloe’s agent and assistant were all waiting for her, as was Liam. He held a giant bouquet of roses and gave it to Chloe in front of all the staff. The sweetness between the two of them was truly enviable. I walked away from them coldly. For a D-list actress like me, naturally, no one was waiting for me. However, my brother just called and said he was coming to pick me up, but there was a bit of traffic on the way. Fully disguised, I stood by the door waiting for him. “Maya, you really don’t have to compete with Chloe on everything.” Behind me, a familiar voice suddenly sounded. I turned around and saw Liam, who had just been embracing Chloe deeply. 3 Liam and I were from the same talent agency. He debuted two years before me. When I met him, he was also a nobody, barely getting any work. As soon as I joined the agency, Liam said it was love at first sight. At first, I refused. I had finally convinced my family to let me develop in the entertainment industry, and I didn’t want dating to affect my career. But in the end, I couldn’t resist Liam’s excessive attentiveness and agreed to date him. However, the agency didn’t allow artists, especially new ones, to date, so we could only keep it “underground.” During our secret relationship, Liam’s acting career progressed by leaps and bounds. But what he didn’t know was that I helped him secure most of his jobs through my family’s connections. Especially that movie that made him explode in popularity. To get him the male lead, my dad directly became an investor. However, who would have thought that after he blew up, he would officially announce his relationship with Chloe, the female lead of the movie. At first, he lied to me, saying it was just for PR and hype. It wasn’t until later, when paparazzi caught him spending the night at Chloe’s house, that he confessed, saying he hid it from me because he was afraid I would be too heartbroken to accept it. The truth is, I knew perfectly well that Liam was just worried I would expose our relationship out of anger. He had always maintained a single persona before. He had finally made it big, and he was afraid of a scandal. I didn’t have that strong a desire for revenge. Even though I was indeed very angry at the time, thinking about how I hadn’t considered myself at all over the past two years just to support him… Of course, I admit that my main goal in entering the entertainment industry wasn’t to become famous, but to understand the market for future project investments. Sooner or later, I was going back to inherit the family business. Therefore, as an artist, I didn’t have huge ambitions. But that didn’t mean I should be the fall guy, unconditionally accepting Liam’s betrayal. I even never told him what I had done for him behind the scenes, afraid it would burden him… But in the end, I still chose to let it go. After all, everything I did for Liam was willing, and I never expected him to repay me. Moreover, life is so long, who can guarantee they won’t meet a scumbag or two? I just treated it as a lesson learned. And most importantly, I will be doing business in the entertainment industry in the future. Harmony brings wealth, and I didn’t want to make enemies with anyone. So after being cheated on, I still broke up with Liam peacefully. After breaking up, we had no contact or overlap. Even though Liam’s fans often sarcastically said I was throwing myself at him, I never responded. Until today, when Liam took the initiative to speak to me. I looked at him coldly. From the day we broke up, this person was meaningless in my life. “I know you’re uncomfortable that I’m with Chloe, so you try to compare yourself to her everywhere,” Liam said helplessly. “But someone like Chloe, born with a silver spoon and favored by God, looking at the entire entertainment industry, who can compare to her, let alone you who has nothing.” I was so angry I laughed. Chloe was born with a silver spoon? I have nothing?! He probably didn’t know how many times Chloe had been subjected to the “casting couch” to get a role. He even more didn’t know that if my family’s assets crushed down, they could crush this pair of scumbags into mush! “Don’t blame me for speaking harshly. We loved each other once, and I don’t want you to be too embarrassed. You should also know how ugly the outside voices mocking you are now.” Liam looked well-intentioned. “Although bad publicity is still publicity, a person still needs to have some dignity.” 4 “You still know what dignity is?” I fired back. “When you cheated, why didn’t you think about finding your dignity?!” Liam’s face instantly changed. He said, frustrated and angry, “Maya, do you know how busy I am right now? Do you know how full my schedule is? I’m telling you this for your own good. Do you think I have nothing better to do than waste my time on you all day?” “Then get lost, as far away as possible! It’s best if you never appear in front of me again, you’re an eyesore!” I snapped back at him. For this kind of scumbag, there’s really no need to give him any face. “Do you still not have any self-awareness?! Look at what you’re like now. I’m taking the initiative to care about you. Not only are you not grateful, but you’re acting so arrogant?!” “I originally thought if you still wanted a place in the entertainment industry, remembering our past, I’d introduce you to some resources. Since you don’t know what’s good for you, then forget it.” Liam looked arrogant. I snorted coldly. Who cares. If I want resources, if I want to pull strings, do I need your help?! I couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to Liam anymore. At this moment, my brother had already arrived in his Rolls-Royce to pick me up. I was about to walk right past Liam. “Maya!” Liam suddenly blocked my path. Being ignored by me like this, he looked like he was burning with anger. “No wonder you haven’t made any progress in the entertainment industry for five years. Someone like you who doesn’t seek improvement will never make it in the industry in your entire life. In fact, not just the entertainment industry, you won’t have a good life anywhere!” Liam said angrily. “Now I’m truly incredibly glad I chose Chloe instead of wasting time on someone like you!” “Liam, don’t speak too absolutely, it’s easy to get slapped in the face!” I mocked coldly. “But you’re actually right. I am very glad I didn’t waste too much time on you!” “You!” Liam was furious, and said viciously, “Maya, I’ll tell you straight. I’m about to take on an S-tier TV drama. Seeing you struggling so much, I wanted to help you out, introduce you to the director, and let you play the third female lead.” “Heh.” I sneered, my face full of disdain. “I really don’t care.” Liam still wanted to say something. I was truly out of patience. “Move! Good dogs don’t block the way.” I glared at him angrily. Liam was grinding his teeth in anger. But at that moment, he still didn’t move. It must be that psychologically he still couldn’t accept me being so cold to him. He probably thought that with him doing so well in the entertainment industry now, I should be fawning over him like a simp. Just like when we broke up, Liam always thought I would cling to him desperately. But unexpectedly, I was even more decisive and neat than him. During the stalemate. Liam was suddenly shoved hard from behind. The movement was a bit rough. Liam almost fell flat on his face. He turned around and angrily looked at the person who pushed him. My brother didn’t even look at him, just asked me, “Who is this guy?” “A stray dog,” I replied. “Maya!” Liam was exasperated. “Warning you, stay away from Maya! Otherwise, I’ll kill you.” My brother pulled me into his arms, threatening coldly. Liam looked at me and my brother fiercely. At that moment, naturally, he also saw the two tall and burly bodyguards standing behind my brother, and didn’t say another word. Moreover, Liam was a public figure and didn’t dare to cause trouble. He could only watch through gritted teeth as my brother and I got into that black Rolls-Royce and drove away. 5 Sitting in the car. Liam sent me another message. When we broke up, it was very clean, so we didn’t get to the point where we had to block each other’s contacts. [Maya, I really didn’t expect you to be subjected to the casting couch. I still felt guilty and worried about you, but it turns out I was flattering myself.] Even through the screen, I could smell Liam’s sourness. I ignored him. I was currently talking to my brother about me leaving the industry. But Liam was relentless. The message notifications didn’t stop, and his tone was getting nastier. [I really didn’t expect you to sink this low?! Don’t you feel cheap acting like this?] [You can’t even compare to Chloe. No matter how bad things get for Chloe, she would absolutely never do something like this.] [You really have subverted every image I had of you in my heart. I always thought you were very pure, but I overestimated you.] I was annoyed by the message sounds, and unable to take it anymore, I replied: [If you’re not afraid of me sending our chat history to the media, shut up!] That one sentence shut Liam up immediately. I sneered. It was truly ironic. For Liam, his career is more important than anything. Choosing Chloe back then was also out of vanity and social climbing, right?! Of course, I had no expectations of him. I had long seen through what kind of person he was. After finishing with Liam, I received a call from my agent. She asked coldly, “Where are you?” “On my way home.” “What nonsense were you spouting during the live interview today? Who do you think you are to compare yourself to Chloe?” The agent scolded me harshly. “Do you know you’re trending now because people are cursing at you?! I warned you long ago, our agency doesn’t need infamous artists. You insist on doing this, do you want the agency to completely give up on you?!” “Then give up.” I originally intended to terminate my contract with the agency anyway. Moreover, the agency indeed hadn’t promoted me. “What, are you threatening me?” The agent’s voice rose significantly. “Why do you think I signed you back then? If I had signed Chloe, who debuted at the same time as you, I would have made a fortune long ago!” “So who’s to blame?! Blame yourself for being blind?!” I mocked. “Enough, Maya, I don’t want to waste words with you. Hurry back to the agency now and record a video apologizing to the public, saying you were just joking to liven up the atmosphere during the live stream.” “I wasn’t joking.” I said, word by word. “You mean your family really owns a mine?” The agent mocked me. “If your family owns a mine, why haven’t I seen them spend money to promote you? If your family owns a mine, how could you still be such a loser after all these years?!” “I’m a loser, shouldn’t you look for the reason in yourself, as my agent?” “You!” The agent was speechless. “I don’t want to argue with you. Come back now and record the video.” “I’m not recording it.” “Maya, have you lost your mind? You dare to refuse the agency’s arrangement?! Believe it or not, the agency will freeze you out immediately!” “There’s no need for that much trouble. We can just terminate the contract,” I said coldly. “Terminate the contract? You think you can terminate it just because you want to? You still have half a year left on your contract. If you terminate early, can you afford the penalty?” “You don’t need to worry about that.” I didn’t want to waste words with her. I said directly, “I’ll come find you at the agency tomorrow.” Then I hung up. And turned off my phone. My brother watched my actions and asked with a smile, “Finally feel that the entertainment industry is boring?” “I felt it was boring a long time ago. I just stayed longer to investigate the market.” “Do you need me to go with you to terminate the contract tomorrow?” “No need.” “Indeed my family’s child, naturally domineering,” my brother praised. 6 The next morning, I went to the talent agency. The news of me saying I was going to inherit a billion-dollar fortune in the live interview yesterday was still hanging at the number one spot on the trending list. The comments below were all cursing me for being shameless. The few fans I had also turned on me, saying they wouldn’t support a liar. I didn’t care. I was leaving the industry anyway. When I arrived at the agency, besides the agent waiting for me with a cold face, Liam was also there. He looked at me with a half-smile. He was clearly here to watch me make a fool of myself. Really, a petty man gloating. “The young heiress of the Thorne family is willing to come to the agency herself?” The agent opened her mouth with passive-aggression. As soon as she spoke. Other staff members and some artists in the agency couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “I’m here to terminate my contract.” I remained unmoved, my expression cold. “Sure.” The agent unhurriedly took out my contract. “According to the contract, if an artist breaks the contract early, they must pay the agency thirty million dollars in penalties.” My brow furrowed slightly. I wasn’t scared by the figure, but in my memory, I simply didn’t need to pay that much. As a qualified businesswoman, how could I suffer such a loss?! I casually picked up the contract and started reading. Seeing my expression, the agent began to mock: “What, doesn’t your family have a billion-dollar fortune to inherit? You can’t even produce a mere thirty million?! But seriously, Maya, you’ve been in the industry for five years, have you made thirty million? Not even three million!” She was certain I couldn’t produce that sum of money. She continued chattering: “Don’t pretend to be someone you’re not! There are still ten months left on your contract. If you be a good girl and listen, the agency might still renew your contract. Otherwise, with your commercial value right now, no agency will sign you…” Smack, I threw the contract in front of the agent. The agent jumped in fright. She stared at me blankly, yelling with lingering fear: “Are you crazy?” “It’s written very clearly here. With less than a year left on the contract, the penalty is only 60%, which means I only need to pay eighteen million.” “Can you even produce eighteen million? LMAO…” “Swipe it!” I took out a black card and placed it in front of her. The agent looked at me in disbelief. “Eighteen million, and from now on, we have nothing to do with each other.” “Where did you get the money?” The agent looked at my card and asked me. After all, I really hadn’t made much money in the entertainment industry. “Where else could she get the money? The sugar daddy behind her,” Liam spoke up, seemingly casually. “Yesterday when I went to pick up Chloe, I happened to see her get into a top-of-the-line limited-edition Rolls-Royce…” “Maya, you really are something!” The agent flared up. “Back then, when I asked you to go to dinner parties to accompany executives, you refused. Now you turn around and latch onto a big shot, and you just flip the table, right?!” “That’s my family’s money.” I was utterly speechless. “You want to be a whore and erect a chastity monument?! If you had listened to me back then, you could have been as famous as Chloe. But in the end, you still went down this path?!” The more the agent spoke, the more disdainful she became. “I wasted five years on you for nothing.” “Wasted five years on me?!” I raised my voice, no longer indulging her. “Ever since I refused the casting couch, you completely ignored me! For the past five years, I negotiated countless jobs on my own. You have the nerve to say ‘wasted’? If anyone’s wasted anything, it’s me feeling sorry for myself!” 7 “Maya!” the agent screamed. In front of so many people in the agency, I didn’t give her any face at all. “Don’t think that just because you have a sugar daddy, you can be arrogant in the entertainment industry. I’ve been in the industry for twenty years. If I want to blacklist someone, it’s a piece of cake,” the agent threatened loudly. “Then, let’s wait and see.” LMAO. The capitalist big shot she was currently fawning over was my own father. Would I be afraid of her?! After terminating the contract with the talent agency, I left. Liam blocked my way at the door again. I really don’t understand how thick someone’s skin must be to appear in front of me so self-righteously. “Maya, do you want to offend everyone in the entertainment industry?” Liam asked me with a cold smile. “You offended me, offended Chloe, and now you’ve offended your talent agency! Isn’t it just because you latched onto the eldest son of the Sterling family? But if I remember correctly, the eldest son of the Sterling family is married.” The eldest son of the Sterling family Liam mentioned was my brother. Maya Thorne is my stage name. My real name is Maya Sterling. I changed it to my mother’s maiden name mainly because I didn’t want to cause unnecessary trouble in the entertainment industry. “I didn’t expect you to actually look into it, did you?” Liam saw I wasn’t speaking and smugly continued, “The Sterling family is the only one in all of Los Angeles with that limited-edition Rolls-Royce.” “And then?” I looked completely indifferent. “Once you’re exposed, who do you think the eldest son of the Sterling family will choose between you and his original wife?” “Me.” I said firmly. “Maya, you really think too highly of yourself! Do you think you can do whatever you want just because you’re pretty? Wealthy families aren’t as simple as you think!” “You know what wealthy families are like?” “Chloe comes from a wealthy family, of course I know.” “She comes from a wealthy family?” I really laughed out loud. “If she comes from a wealthy family, has she ever taken you to one?” “We haven’t reached the point of discussing marriage yet.” Liam made an excuse. “Now the whole internet knows how good your relationship is. Even at this point, you still haven’t met Chloe’s parents?” “Chloe’s parents are very busy. Do you think everyone is like you, with nothing to do?” “Don’t you think you’re deceiving yourself? Liam, you’ve been dating Chloe for three years, not three days. No matter how busy someone is, they can’t spare half a day in three years?!” The more I spoke, the more sarcastic I became. “My business with Chloe is none of your concern!” Liam was getting angry. “Likewise, my business is none of yours either!” “I’m doing this for your own good!” Liam said angrily. “I don’t care! If you have that much free time, you’d be better off focusing on your goddess Chloe. Who knows, you might get an unexpected surprise.” “What do you mean?” Liam obviously caught my insinuation. “Figure it out yourself.” “I’m telling you, Maya, no matter how hard you try, you’ll never be able to compare to Chloe in your entire life. With her background, you can’t even dream of catching up to her.” I smiled coldly. Before, I really never thought of using my background to show off. But right now, I kind of wanted to see what kind of expression Liam would have when he found out I was the daughter of the richest man. “Just wait and see.” I dropped that line and walked away from Liam. Right now, talk is cheap. Liam wouldn’t believe me. Anyway, he’ll be slapped in the face soon enough. 8 My contract termination with the talent agency hit the trending topics again. The comment section was filled with negative remarks. [Didn’t she have a billion-dollar fortune to inherit? Yet she was dropped by her agency for running her mouth? This is literally the biggest joke to start 2024!] [I was still waiting for Maya to make a comeback. LMAO, I definitely overestimated her.] [Some people are just too vain. The entertainment industry shouldn’t encourage this toxic behavior.] [She used to leech off Liam’s popularity, which gave her some recognition. Otherwise, who would know this D-list actress? Now she wants to leech off our Chloe’s popularity. Who knew she’d actually crash and burn? Serves her right!] Meanwhile, Chloe and Liam happened to have a New Year’s live stream for their fans. My trending topic actually brought a wave of traffic to their live stream. The live chat was all asking Chloe and Liam to comment on me having a billion-dollar fortune to inherit and getting dropped by my agency. Liam responded first: “I have the same agency and agent as Maya. Regarding her being dropped by the agency, there might be a misunderstanding. Maya requested the termination herself. The agency never mistreated her.” [What? Maya actually dared to terminate her contract? Who would sign her now?] [If an artist voluntarily terminates, shouldn’t they pay a penalty?] [Does she have the money to pay the penalty?] “I’m not too sure about the rest. I’m just telling everyone what I know. I hope you guys don’t spread rumors,” Liam said to calm the excited fans. The fans weren’t listening at all. The live chat kept scrolling— [Does Maya have a sugar daddy behind her? Otherwise, where did she get the money to pay the penalty?] [Forget the penalty, with her current status, how dare she terminate her contract? With her reputation, who would dare hire her?!] Because of Liam’s words. The news of #MayaPaysMassivePenalty,SuspectedSugarDaddyBehindHer# rushed to the top of the trending list again. I really didn’t expect that after leaving the industry, I would actually blow up. At this moment, Chloe also responded to my situation in her live stream: “I debuted with Maya and collaborated a few times before, but we’re just acquaintances, so I’m not clear on her specific family background. But since she says her family has a billion-dollar fortune, I think it’s not entirely unbelievable.” As soon as Chloe said this, the live chat filled with compliments— [Chloe’s personality is so great. Everyone knows Maya is a fake heiress, yet she’s still willing to believe her.] [Chloe is from a wealthy family herself, so she doesn’t think being wealthy is anything extraordinary.] [Why is there such a huge gap between people? I’m proud of my idol.] [Chloe, can you show us what a wealthy family’s home looks like? Can you do a live stream touring your mansion?] That last comment was spammed all over the screen. Chloe kept trying to change the subject, acting as if she didn’t see the live chat. Liam, who was co-streaming with her, suddenly spoke up: “Chloe, just fulfill the fans’ New Year’s wish.” With Liam saying it so bluntly, Chloe really couldn’t play deaf and dumb anymore. She smiled and said, “Of course I can fulfill my fans’ New Year’s wish. Once the time is confirmed, I’ll take my fans on a tour of my home.” [Chloe spoils her fans so much.] [Being Chloe’s fan is just too lucky.] [Looking forward to touring Chloe’s new home…] I watched Chloe’s awkward smile. The Vance family of Los Angeles has never had a daughter named Chloe; they only have one named Lily, and she is my cousin. I’d really like to know how she’s going to cover up this lie of the century. 9 After the two finished their live stream. I was pushed to the trending topics, and #ChloeSpoilsFansAgreesToTourMansion# also hit the trending topics. The whole internet was looking forward to touring Chloe’s mansion. And because of this sudden surge in popularity, talent agencies reached out to me offering work. I refused them all. I had already taken over the family business and become a major player behind the scenes in Hollywood. I had invested in several highly anticipated shows and was incredibly busy every day. I almost forgot about Chloe’s live stream touring her mansion. If Liam hadn’t smugly sent me a message: [Maya, didn’t you always envy Chloe and slander her? Today at 3 PM she’s live-streaming a tour of her mansion. Aren’t you going to watch?] Chloe really had guts! I thought she would just brush it off, but she’s actually live-streaming after barely half a month? Isn’t she afraid of getting exposed?! [Thanks for the reminder, I’ll tune in right on time.] I replied to Liam. Since Liam insisted on throwing himself onto the muzzle of the gun, I obliged him. I turned around and sent a message to my cousin: [Does your dad really have an illegitimate daughter?] [Are you kidding me? I’ve been putting up with that woman Chloe for a long time! Let’s see what kind of stunt she pulls today. If she pisses me off, I’ll tear her apart right then and there.] Even through the screen, I could feel Lily’s anger. 3 PM. Chloe indeed started her live stream as promised, taking fans on a tour of her “mansion.” It was fake at a glance. Where was this the Vance family estate? I don’t know what unknown, third-rate villa in what obscure area it was. The live stream went online. The fans started mindlessly praising her. [Wow, Chloe’s house is so big and beautiful!] [Worthy of the Vance family, ranking top three on L.A.’s wealth list. So luxurious!] [Chloe really peaked right out of the gate.] [Reminds me again of a certain unknown actress who claimed she had a billion-dollar fortune to inherit!] I was working while watching Chloe’s live stream. Seeing so many fans flattering her, it became increasingly hilarious. Chloe very “professionally” led the fans on a tour of her “mansion.” The fans were very supportive. The gifts in the live stream were even more extravagant. Chloe considerately asked people not to send gifts, saying helplessly that she didn’t know how to turn off the gift feature, which triggered another wave of frantic spamming from fans. My phone suddenly rang. It was Liam. He said smugly, “Maya, do you finally see the gap between you and Chloe now? You can’t even dream of a mansion like Chloe’s in this lifetime.” “Are you still hung up on me?!” I was truly running out of patience with him. “Me, hung up on you? Why don’t you look at the massive gap between you and Chloe? Am I blind?” “Then why do you keep bothering me?” “I pity you.” “Totally unnecessary.” I glanced at the live stream. “You better go pity your goddess Chloe!” After all, right now, the live stream was starting to get chaotic. Liam seemed to have noticed it too and quickly hung up the phone.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “424281”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The boy I secretly loved jumped to his death. Given a second chance at life, I finally told him everything. But he threatened me, saying if I truly loved him, I had to die with him. 01 I woke up and realized I had traveled back in time. I was back to exactly one month before Leo Sterling’s suicide. Leo, the boy I had pined for over three years, had jumped from the roof of the library. His body sat in the morgue for a week. No one came to claim him. Not a single family member or friend appeared. I used every cent of my savings to pay for the storage and the service. In that moment, it felt like he finally belonged to me. The police had found a single, private post on his locked social media: In this world, no one loves me. This time, I was going to shout my love for him from the rooftops. But when I finally cornered him and confessed, he just gave me a polite, distant smile. “Thank you,” he said. That was it. “Can I have your number? Or your Instagram?” I was relentless. Eventually, he sighed and gave in. Leo was the star of the psych department, a year ahead of me. He was so brilliant, so untouchable, that I never dared to speak to him before. To catch up to him, I had spent my nights buried in textbooks, barely eating or sleeping, just so I could get into the same graduate program. But in my last life, he was gone before I could even say, “Hello, senior.” I didn’t waste time. My first DM was a direct hit: [Leo, I’m actually in love with you.] There was no response. I figured he was shy. I was about to send another message when I realized… he had blocked me. The little red exclamation mark mocked me. I looked like a total stalker. I tried to add him again. Blacklisted. I was banned from even sending a request. My plan had failed before it even started. I only had 29 days left. That night, I dreamed of his death on a loop. I couldn’t hold onto him. He kept slipping through my fingers, falling over the edge again and again. Finally, I broke. I jumped with him. The sensation of weightlessness snapped me awake, drenched in sweat. My roommate asked what kind of nightmare I was having. “I dreamed my uncle turned my pet fish into stew,” I lied. She didn’t believe me. It was just a fish, after all. I first noticed Leo because of a fish. He had been crouching in front of a vendor at a local market, insisting on buying a tiny, sick fish with pinecone scales—dropsy. The vendor refused to sell it, calling him an idiot. “The thing is going to die in an hour,” he’d said. I followed that “idiot” as he carried the fish across half the city. He ended up at the edge of a lake. “Go have some fun for your last few hours,” he whispered to the water. Back then, I thought he was just pure and kind. Now I realize he was talking to himself. Was he happy in his final hours? 02 The campus wasn’t that big. Finding Leo was easy. “What exactly do you want?” he asked, finally losing his patience with my stalking. I waved my phone. “Unblock me.” “No.” “Then I’ll keep following you.” He shot me a look but didn’t budge. “Suit yourself.” So, I became Leo’s shadow. Even if he ignored me, I was content. If I kept my eyes on him, he couldn’t jump, right? The next morning, I was waiting at the entrance of his dorm. Unlike before, he didn’t walk past me. He stopped. “Have you eaten?” I shook my head. I’d been there since 6:00 AM to make sure he didn’t sneak out early. He tossed a carton of milk into my lap. “It expires today. Don’t let it go to waste.” I knew it was his way of caring. I scrambled up and followed him. “Can I have my Instagram back today?” “No.” “Leo!” He turned, frowning. “What?” “I love you even more than I did yesterday!” He rolled his eyes and kept walking toward his advisor’s office. I went back to my room to catch up on sleep. My roommates were baffled. Leo was polite to everyone else, but he was incredibly prickly with me. But this was the real him. Not the masked, “normal” version he showed the world. Because I’d been up so early, I slept until noon. I completely missed the end of his seminar. I ran to the science building, hoping for a miracle. Leo was standing right in the sun, looking like a lost kid. I ran up and held my umbrella over him. “Why didn’t you wait in the shade?” He looked down at me. “Who said I was waiting for you?” Okay, fine. He just enjoyed the June heat. Sure. I followed him to the dining hall. His tray was piled with nothing but fried chicken. I started a lecture on balanced nutrition. “Mhm,” he grunted, ignoring me as he added more nuggets to his plate. “Leo, you’re going to get a stomach ache.” “Summer,” he said, staring at me like I was a simpleton, “don’t try to lecture a med student on basic biology. Your logic is flawed.” I shut up. I bought a double serving of vegetables, planning to force some on him. But by the time I got my food, the seat next to him was taken. Three girls were sitting there. Leo wasn’t prickly with them. He was charming. He laughed at their jokes. He was the perfect gentleman. I watched him from across the room. How could someone who looked so normal be planning to end it all? Someone bumped into me, spilling my iced tea all over my arm. “I am so sorry!” the guy said, frantically grabbing napkins. “I’ll get you a new one,” he insisted before I could say no. He ran off to the line. The seats near Leo were full. I sat down nearby to dry my arm. Someone sat across from me. I thought it was the tea guy. I looked up. It was Leo. He looked furious. “Who is he?” he demanded. I told him I didn’t know. He just bumped into me. Right then, the guy returned with a fresh tea, apologized again, and left. I pushed the tea toward Leo. “I only got it because I couldn’t carry two.” He stared at the cup. He didn’t touch it until I swapped my cup for his. “Good?” I asked. He dropped the act and went back to his chicken. I started moving greens onto his plate. He looked disgusted, but under my glare, he finally ate a piece of broccoli. “Don’t be a picky eater, Leo.” He swallowed it like it was poison. 03 Leo seemed normal, but after two weeks of watching him, I realized he didn’t have any real friends. He was a master of boundaries. He was “social,” but no one was close. But what about his family? His mentors? He was a top-tier grad student. Why did no one show up to his funeral? I didn’t have time to solve the mystery. I only had 15 days left. “Leo, when are you going to unblock me?” I asked, licking an ice cream cone. If it weren’t for the deadline, I would have enjoyed this slow, hidden tension between us. “Depends on my mood.” He wiped a drop of cream off his hand with a look of pure disdain. He hated sweets. “Sigh. I guess I can’t have dinner with you tonight.” He looked at me. He wanted to know why, but his pride wouldn’t let him ask. “Group meeting. We’re designing the new athletic uniforms,” I said. “I’ll be busy all night. You won’t hear from me.” My phone buzzed. A notification. Leo_S has sent you a follow request. He kept a straight face. Stupidly stubborn boy. At the meeting, I realized the guy who bumped into me—Ross—was there too. He was a junior in design. My advisor was a friend of his father’s; he was just there for the “legacy” credit. “I mean, I have the skills too,” Ross joked. During the meeting, I checked in on Leo’s dinner. He didn’t reply, just sent a photo of a salad. [Good boy! As a reward, I’ll come see you at your dorm after this.] I held my breath, wondering if he’d block me again. He replied with a single character. [.] A period. I guess that meant “Read.” It was after 9:00 PM when I finished. Leo was waiting in the lobby of the building, wearing a black hoodie. Ross followed me out, complaining about the late meeting. The moment Leo saw him, he turned and walked away. I apologized to Ross and ran after Leo. “Leo!” He didn’t answer. He sat on a stone bench. “He’s just a legacy student in my program,” I explained. “I don’t like him,” Leo muttered. I sat close to him. “I hate legacy students too. We are united in our hatred!” He didn’t say anything. Silence stretched between us. Nearby, a couple was making out in the shadows of the campus trees. I swallowed hard. “Leo… can we hold hands?” Silence. I gathered my courage and reached for his hand. I gripped it. He didn’t pull away. My confidence surged. I looked him dead in the eye. “Can we kiss?” He let out a short laugh. “Summer, do you have no shame?” I pointed at the couple in the trees. “They’re doing it.” “They’re a couple.” “Then be my boyfriend.” I felt his hand stiffen. I held on tighter, terrified he’d let go. He didn’t answer for the longest time. I was about to ask again when he reached out his other hand and covered my mouth. “Don’t say it.” He led me back to my dorm with one hand in mine and the other firmly over my lips. “If you stop talking, I’ll let go.” I nodded. The second he released me, I whispered in his ear: “Leo, I love you even more today.” 04 Work for the project ramped up. I saw less of Leo. Before, I waited for him. Now, he waited for me. My roommates thought I’d finally won him over, but my heart was constantly on edge. Then Ross found me. I didn’t want anything to do with him, but he wanted to talk about Leo. I had lied to Leo, telling him I’d be working all night so he’d go home. “Do you know about Leo’s parents?” Ross asked, getting straight to the point. “His parents were… well, it was a scandal. They were related. His dad bailed as soon as Leo was born. I think the guy is a total freak, Summer. You should stay away.” “Thanks for the info,” I interrupted. “But I know who he is better than you do.” “Why do you think he’s in psychiatry? He’s looking for his own cure,” Ross sneered. I couldn’t stand the slander. “I appreciate the warning, but we aren’t close enough for you to talk about him like that. You’re overstepping.” Ross looked stunned, insisting he was just looking out for me. I brushed him off, saying I’d keep it in mind. Leo heard that last part. “Looking out for what? Looking out for me?” Before I could explain, he grabbed my arm and dragged me away. His grip was tight, almost painful. He didn’t stop until we were in a secluded corner of the park. “Summer, you said you loved me.” I expected him to scream. Instead, he just sounded broken, like I’d betrayed him. I didn’t know what to say. He let out a bitter laugh. “Forget it. Go away. Don’t come back.” He turned to leave. I lunged forward and hugged him from behind. “Leo… was it really that bad?” I felt his body go rigid. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. I’m just here.” He turned around and pulled me into his arms. Ross was right. The story was dark. His parents’ “forbidden” love wasn’t a romance; it was a curse. His father saw Leo as a living reminder of his “sin” and vanished. His mother blamed Leo for everything. The verbal abuse was worse than anything physical. He realized he was “broken” in high school. By day, he pretended to be normal. By night, he struggled with the urge to disappear. One night, he was googling ways to end it without pain when a quote popped up: The world isn’t perfect, but there is always someone watching over you. “I thought… maybe I’ll wait. Maybe someone will actually come.” “Leo…” I whispered, stroking his back. “So, Summer, this is your last chance to run.” I shook my head. “I’m not running.” I had lost him once because of my cowardice. This was my second chance. “Leo, I won’t regret this.” He held me tighter. “So… are you my boyfriend now?” He pulled back immediately, his “prickly” persona returning. “No.” “Why?! You’re literally cuddling me!” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You haven’t done a proper confession yet.” Was he serious? I confessed every single day. “A formal one,” he insisted. I sighed. Fine. I’d plan the most romantic confession ever. 05 The month was almost up. I set the date for the confession on the same day he was supposed to jump. I wanted to turn his death day into our anniversary. A rebirth. I found an empty classroom. I covered it in printed photos. Screenshots of every time I told him I loved him. Candid photos of him I’d taken. Every meal he’d “reported” to me. I was a nervous wreck. I should have been watching him more closely, but I let him go alone to see his advisor. I waited in the classroom for two hours. He didn’t show. My DMs went unanswered. I went to find him. As I was heading down the stairs, I saw his advisor, Professor Miller, rushing past the window. “Oh my god, someone jumped!” “Who would do that on campus?” My legs turned to jelly. Panic surged through me. I ran to the building and pushed through the crowd. The person in the pool of blood was unrecognizable, but I knew the clothes. “Leo…” I whispered. I tried to reach him, but hands held me back. A blinding white light swallowed my vision. I passed out. 06 I was in a loop. I woke up in my dorm room again. I checked my phone. It was five days before the jump. I tried to message Leo. He wasn’t in my contacts. “Fuck!” I cursed. The universe was playing with me. I ran to find his classroom. I waited for him to come out. When he did, he walked right past me like we were strangers. “Leo…” I grabbed his hand. He pulled away coldly. “Do I know you?” He didn’t remember me? Was I starting from zero? Or was the last loop just a dream? I was stuck in a circle of “is this real?” But I knew his death wasn’t a simple suicide. Everything had been getting better. He was trying to save himself. I wandered the campus, looking for clues. My advisor called me into a meeting. The advisor! I remembered that Leo always seemed darker after seeing his advisor. And I saw Professor Miller running away the day Leo died. He was involved. At the meeting, Ross was there again. I didn’t plan on talking to him, but he approached me. “How’s it going? Leo hasn’t been bothering you, has he? I told you he was a creep. Glad I could help.” “What are you talking about?” I demanded. Ross looked confused. “You said Leo was stalking you. Saying crazy things about ‘regretting’ things.” My heart stopped. Leo was in the loop too? Then why was he pretending he didn’t know me? I stood up abruptly, startling my advisor. “Summer, what’s wrong?” I didn’t answer. I grabbed my bag and ran. I had to find him. If he remembered, he knew what happened that day. He was hiding. I waited at his dorm for two days. He didn’t show. He was avoiding me because he thought I had “regretted” him. I realized that before, I only found him because he let me find him. He didn’t believe I loved him, but he’d made a bet on it. I went to Professor Miller. The man always gave me the creeps. When I asked for Leo, his expression shifted from tension to a forced smile. “Oh, so you’re the girl he said didn’t want him anymore.” I didn’t have time for small talk. “Professor, it’s urgent. Where is he?” He gave me an address. A tenement building off-campus. Before I left, I looked at him. “Are you seeing Leo the day after tomorrow?” His eyes flickered. “No. Why?” I lied. “It’s my birthday. I want him to spend it with me. I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t busy with school work.” He waved me off, telling me to have fun. 07 Leo wouldn’t open the door. “Leo! Open up! I’m sorry! Please!” I was begging like a stray dog outside his door. Whoever “Summer” was in this loop, she had ruined everything. “I have a secret! Just listen!” I whispered through the door frame. “The person before… that wasn’t me.” “You’re lying,” his voice came from inside, low and hollow. “I’m not! Just open the door!” “Go away.” “No!” I sat down on the floor. I wasn’t leaving. The hallway of the old building was damp. Then, the sky opened up. A downpour hit the city. The roof of the hallway leaked, soaking me to the bone. I shivered, knocking again. “Leo, I’m freezing. I’m going to get sick.” “I saw you walk into the rain on purpose,” he said through the door. Dammit. He’d been watching. “Fine. Then throw me an umbrella so I can go home and change.” I was ready to bolt the second the door cracked. It opened. He didn’t throw an umbrella. He threw a towel over my head. “Dry off and get in here.” He looked lethal. He leaned against the wall, glaring at me. “Talk.” I told him everything. From his first death to the loops. I told him the logic. He didn’t jump. The Summer in his timeline had disappeared and was replaced by a Summer who didn’t know him. He thought I was playing a game with him. I told him the jump had to do with his advisor. He laughed. “That’s a hell of a story. You spent days coming up with that?” “Leo, I know it sounds insane, but it’s what’s happening.” “You regretted being with me, Summer. Just admit it.” He tossed an umbrella at my feet. “Get out.” I grabbed his sleeve. “I’m not going anywhere.”

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I lost a bet during a game with my friends, and my punishment was being forced to post a specific status on my social media: [I’m two months pregnant. I suddenly really wanted some grapes, but my husband refused to buy them for me. Then I wanted some green grapes, and he still refused. The marriage is over, we’ve broken up, I got rid of the baby, and I finally ate my grapes. From now on, the creature known as a ‘husband’ no longer exists in my world.] The male lead of my loveless, ghost-town of a marriage was instantly summoned back from overseas overnight by our panicked parents. After a grueling three-way interrogation, the truth came out. When the man who took the blame for my prank finally came home, he had his assistant haul in three massive boxes of red grapes and three boxes of green grapes. His face was as cold as the Grim Reaper himself. “Since you love eating them so much, this time, I’m going to let you eat until you drop.” 1 After hitting “Post” on that status, I casually tossed my phone onto the luxurious marble table and lazily scanned the room. “How was that? Satisfied?” My friends around the table all gave me a thumbs-up. Leo even cursed in absolute disbelief, picking up my phone to verify it. “Serena, you are insane! You seriously didn’t filter a single person from seeing this.” I couldn’t be bothered to respond to their flattery, simply waving my hand to deal the next round of cards. I was used to doing whatever I wanted. As for the absolute tsunami this post would cause once my parents and my in-laws saw it? I didn’t even want to think about it. While shuffling the cards, Chloe leaned in close to me. With an “I-know-exactly-what-you’re-doing” smirk, she offered her expert analysis on my bold move: “If you didn’t want to post it, who could force you? You did this on purpose. You just wanted to summon CEO Thorne back from overseas, didn’t you?” Chloe had been reading way too many billionaire romance novels lately. Her head was full of cliché, dramatic plotlines. I decided not to argue with her and just gave a dismissive reply: “Mhm. You’re completely right.” In our elite New York social circle, whenever anyone brought up me and Ethan Thorne, they would always sigh and call it a spectacularly doomed, toxic karma. When we first met as college freshmen, I was the arrogant, high-and-mighty heiress of the Vance family, sitting comfortably at the absolute center of the Manhattan socialite scene. Whenever the Thorne family was mentioned, people would scoff and call them “tasteless new money who didn’t belong in high society.” Naturally, Ethan was completely ostracized by our circle. And I was the undisputed ringleader of that isolation campaign. But the eighteen-year-old Ethan couldn’t have cared less. His demeanor back then was entirely different from how he is now. He was loud, arrogant, and perfectly content doing his own thing. To crush his arrogance, I personally stepped onto the battlefield. I pretended to be deeply in love with him, chasing him relentlessly for over six months. Just when he had completely fallen for me, I ruthlessly dumped him. Then, I joined my friends in kicking him while he was down, mercilessly mocking him for thinking he was ever good enough for me. With such bad blood between us, we were supposed to hate each other for the rest of our lives. But fate has a twisted sense of humor. Three years ago, a massive economic crisis hit, severely impacting all the old-money families in New York. Desperate for capital and protection, my father swallowed his pride and went begging to the Thorne family—the only ones who emerged from the crisis unscathed—proposing a corporate marriage. I didn’t dare tell my father about the horrible things I had done to Ethan in college. I spent every day living in pure terror, waiting for my father to be thrown out onto the street. But to my utter shock, the Thorne family agreed. At first, I was certain this was Ethan’s grand revenge. The Thorne family was no longer just “new money.” Their business empire had expanded at a terrifying rate, becoming a top-tier conglomerate that everyone in the city looked up to. And Ethan, who had entered the family business early, was already a high-ranking executive, flying all over the world. Forget about revenge—in our three years of marriage, I had only seen him a grand total of three times. The first year, I lived in constant fear, treating every day like walking on eggshells, terrified that one wrong move would anger my billionaire husband. The second year, I comfortably spent my exorbitant allowance, lived in our massive, empty penthouse, and completely forgot my place. Chloe was hopelessly obsessed with our dynamic, treating us like her favorite fictional couple. “CEO Thorne is absolutely true love to you! Why do you think he travels the world working himself to the bone? It’s so you can buy priceless jewelry without blinking and rent out private islands for your parties!” I didn’t say a word. A few cards slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor. “I’m done. I fold this round.” If I hadn’t known that Ethan was keeping a bright, beautiful woman in his luxury mansion in Dubai, my romantically delusional brain might have actually believed he was tolerating me out of lingering affection. But as time went on, I figured it out. This marriage was completely optional to him. He just married me to have a mascot sitting at home to shut down the public gossip. This mascot could be Serena Vance, or it could be literally anyone else. 2 I was woken up by our housekeeper. The consequence of staying up all night drinking was that my sleep schedule was completely flipped. It had been exactly twenty-three hours since I made that fateful post. “Ma’am, the main estate sent a car for you. It’s waiting downstairs.” I frustratedly ran a hand through my messy hair, trying to calculate what important date today was. After washing up, I checked my phone. One look nearly gave me a heart attack. Aside from the countless frantic, concerned messages from my parents and in-laws, even Ethan—whom I hadn’t spoken to in four or five months—had sent me a single “?”. My hand trembled, and I replied with a “?” of my own. He replied instantly: > [I’m at the main estate. Come over.] My brain practically exploded. It was months away from Thanksgiving. Why the hell was Ethan suddenly back in the country?! On the ride to the estate, I scrolled through all the unread messages and finally remembered the post I made last night after losing that stupid game. Ethan’s time was unbelievably valuable. Even during our wedding vows, his assistant was standing nearby checking his watch. Now, because of a joke post, he was summoned back from Dubai overnight by our parents?! When I stepped out of the car, my legs felt like jelly. The Ethan I was most familiar with was the arrogant, reckless boy from our youth. The day he got his driver’s license, he totaled an obscenely expensive supercar. He didn’t even flinch, just kicked the shattered headlight and complained, “What a piece of junk.” He was not this terrifying, awe-inspiring CEO. From his perfectly tailored cuffs to his impeccably styled hair, every single movement screamed “corporate elite.” It was as if he was born in a boardroom. Right now, this corporate elite was occupying a single armchair, while our four parents sat opposite him on the sofa, looking incredibly stern, like a tribunal preparing to pass judgment. The moment I walked in, my mother-in-law’s expression softened. She smiled and came over to take my hand. “It’s my fault. I didn’t realize Serena was feeling so wronged.” My own mother followed closely behind, casting a hesitant, pointed look at my stomach. Thanks to my frequent, spontaneous vacations around the world, I had successfully created the illusion that I regularly flew out to visit Ethan. Therefore, they had absolutely no idea about the true, nonexistent state of our marriage. In their eyes, while Ethan and I might not have a fiery, passionate romance, we were mutually supportive and harmonious. I opened my mouth, struggling to find the words, and silently explained: “Mom… I’m not pregnant…” Compared to my mother-in-law, my own mother knew exactly what kind of trouble I was capable of causing. She instantly gave me a “I knew you were pulling some kind of stunt” look and stood back, waiting to see how I would clean up my own mess. Three other pairs of eyes stared directly at me, waiting for my explanation. I had never faced an interrogation like this in my life. Desperate, I looked at Ethan, praying that the male lead of this ghost-town marriage would throw me a lifeline. The man fought cutthroat corporate wars in Dubai, only for a massive scandal to drop on his head in New York. Yet, Ethan didn’t seem angry at all. And from the looks of it, he hadn’t sold me out yet. Time ticked by. Just as I was losing all hope and frantically trying to piece together a lie in my head… Ethan finally spoke: “I’ve been too busy with work lately, and I haven’t had time to spend with Serena. She was just throwing a tantrum at me. It’s a misunderstanding. I’m sorry for making you all worry.” Ethan was too brilliant and intimidating. He held absolute authority in the family. As soon as he said those words, the four elders immediately understood and nodded in relief. “We were just overreacting. But since you’re already back, you need to spend more time with Serena.” Ethan nodded in agreement. 3 For the entire ride back to our penthouse, I didn’t dare say a word. I drafted a dozen apologies in my head, only to swallow them back down every time. I was stressing so much my face probably looked like a wrinkled prune. When Ethan, pulling his suitcase with one hand and loosening his tie with the other, headed straight for the master bedroom, I finally snapped out of it and blocked his path. Under his confused gaze, I explained awkwardly: “The room is a bit messy. You should go shower in the guest room first, and I’ll bring your luggage in for you.” It was more than “a bit messy.” There was absolutely nothing belonging to Ethan in that master bedroom. He only came back to sleep here one night a year. The last time he was here, the moment he left for the airport on New Year’s Day, I packed up all his belongings and threw them into the guest room. “I’m just going to change my clothes and leave. I have a business dinner in a bit.” Ethan truly was a workaholic. Even though it was already nine o’clock at night, and he had only been back just long enough to take the blame for my prank, he had already scheduled a business meeting. He easily sidestepped me and pushed open the door to the master bedroom. By the time I reacted, it was too late. Ethan stood at the entrance of the massive walk-in closet, staring in absolute silence at the mountains of women’s clothing from every season. “Where are my clothes?” I laughed nervously. “I… I sent them out to be dry-cleaned and maintained. When they were delivered back, the staff didn’t know, so they accidentally put them in the guest room. I haven’t had time to move them back yet.” I didn’t expect this pathetic lie to fool Ethan. He just gave me a deep, unreadable look, took off his suit jacket, and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his dress shirt. It was like he had stripped off his cold, elite exterior. For a brief second, I caught a glimpse of the reckless, youthful Ethan I used to know. The doorbell rang. The next second, Ethan’s secretary walked in with several people, carrying large and small boxes into the apartment. When I finally saw what was inside those boxes, the room spun. My karma had finally arrived. Ethan appeared behind me, gesturing with his chin toward the boxes of red and green grapes. “Eat. Since you love them so much, this time, you’re going to eat until you drop.” I wanted to cry. “I’m sorry.” His face was as cold as ice. “I’ll be back in two hours. You can finish them all by then, right?” When Ethan returned from his business dinner, the apartment was in chaos. The housekeeper was busy moving his belongings back into the master bedroom, while I was squatting in the living room, frantically stuffing grapes into my mouth. I really tried my best. I managed to finish half a box. I thought that showing genuine effort would at least earn me a sliver of forgiveness. But when he saw my cheeks bulging with grapes, his expression grew even colder. He had clearly been drinking. His breathing wasn’t as steady as it had been two hours ago. He walked up and looked down at me. “Serena, where is your brain?” Honestly, no matter how bossy I acted behind his back these past three years, the moment I was in front of Ethan, I couldn’t help but cower. After all, when you have a guilty conscience, you’re always afraid of getting caught. “But I really tried my best! I seriously can’t finish them.” I was so pathetic! I sounded so weak, my voice was literally trembling. He reached out to pull me up, his brow furrowed deeply. “Get up. Go wash up and go to sleep.” He was letting me off the hook. I let out a massive sigh of relief and practically skipped to the bathroom. But the moment I laid down in bed, karma struck again. In just one short hour, I had to run to the bathroom three times. Ethan, sleeping next to me, finally lost his patience. Resigned to his fate, he got out of bed, threw on some clothes, and grabbed a cashmere blanket to wrap me tightly over my pajamas. “Get up. We’re going to the hospital.” I was so weak and dehydrated from diarrhea that I couldn’t even stand up straight. I waved him off weakly. “It’s fine. I’ll just find some stomach medicine.” Ethan’s patience had entirely run out. Ignoring my protests, he scooped me up into his arms. The last time I was this physically close to him was on our wedding day. 4 The wedding was entirely planned by our in-laws. The Thorne family favored traditional ceremonies, so everything from the bridal pickup to the reception was very grounded and classic. At 9:00 AM, the designated auspicious time, I sat drowsily on the edge of the bed. The priceless diamond tiara on my head was so heavy I could barely breathe. The sound of festivities grew louder. Surrounded by a crowd of groomsmen, Ethan calmly and flawlessly passed all the ridiculous “tests” my bridesmaids had set up. That day, he actually had a smile on his face. In a daze, I almost forgot that this was supposed to be a dull, arranged corporate marriage. When he finally found my hidden bridal shoe, the way he picked me up was incredibly gentle and reverent. Amidst the cheering crowd, a suspicious hint of red crept up the tips of his ears. For a moment, I forgot all our past grudges. Leaning against his chest, my heart pounded like a drum. That was the only moment of genuine warmth in our three years of marriage. When the driver pulled the car around today, Ethan had already been holding me at the entrance of our building for ten minutes. Miraculously, my churning stomach quieted down for those ten minutes. I felt incredibly warm. Because we had been holding the same position for so long, I tried to shift slightly in his arms. He looked down at me. The night was too dark for me to see his expression clearly, but I felt the arm around my waist pull me even tighter against him. I gathered my courage, raised my arms to wrap around his neck, and rested my head on his shoulder. “When is the driver getting here?” “Almost.” His voice was right next to my ear, his breath brushing against my skin, tickling me like a feather. Being young and impulsive, my heart was effortlessly stirred with thoughts I definitely shouldn’t be having. This highly inappropriate fluttering feeling lasted until the next day. The following morning, my face flushed as I reminisced about the decidedly not-safe-for-work dream I had the night before. I pushed open the bedroom door and walked out. The male lead of my dream was sitting in the living room wearing loungewear, a laptop balanced on his knees, looking intensely focused. “Why are you still here?!” My voice pitched up in shock, sounding a bit grating. “Serena, my name is also on the deed to this apartment.” I knew I had misspoken, so I quickly tried to explain while calming my racing heart. “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, aren’t you going back?” “Back where?” “Dubai.” It had been three years. I had never, ever woken up the next morning to find Ethan still in the apartment. He kept looking at his laptop and replied coolly, “I’m taking a vacation. For a month.” I was shocked beyond belief. Ethan, the CEO of a multinational conglomerate, with a million things on his plate, right in the prime of his career, taking a one-month vacation? It felt incredibly extravagant. When Chloe heard my rant, she bravely defended Ethan: “Even a dog would shake its head at that! Machines get downtime for maintenance, but Ethan doesn’t?” I replied in agony: “Do you know what this means?! It means I can no longer stay out all night! I have to come home for three meals a day on time and play the role of the perfect, dutiful wife!” Looking at the text message my mother-in-law just sent, I felt even more dead inside. “It also means I might actually have to give Ethan a baby!” My mother-in-law told us to “work hard” and said she believed in Ethan’s abilities. I put my phone down and looked up, meeting Ethan’s gaze. He had clearly just finished replying to our parents’ messages too. His eyes held a rare hint of unnatural awkwardness. 5 Living alone with Ethan was awkward beyond description. Our only shared topic of conversation was that we went to the same Ivy League university. And in our only shared memories, I had repeatedly played him for a fool. After suffering through an entire day of awkward silence, I finally couldn’t take it anymore and tried to break the ice. I carefully chose my words: “Um… do you remember…” Every single mutual topic we had was a landmine. I suddenly felt like I was being too reckless, but the words were already out. Ethan generously looked up and gave me his full attention. I braced myself and stepped right on the landmine. “Carter’s kid… he’s already two years old.” Carter was the only son of the Carter family, a notorious playboy. In college, he worshipped the ground Ethan walked on, and his lifestyle was obscenely lavish. When our friend group used to get together, we would always bring him up, mocking him for slumming it with Ethan, saying he was useless and would probably die in a pile of women. Yet, out of everyone in our social circle, he was the first one to get married and the first to have a kid. When Ethan went abroad, Carter completely disappeared from our radar. The next time we heard about him, it was because he was marrying a young, brilliant university professor from a highly respected, academic family. It was an opulent, century-defining wedding that made everyone envious, giving their little-known, older-woman-younger-man romance the perfect happy ending. Ethan looked at me, seemingly speechless. He finally said, “Carter’s son is my godson.” My eyes widened in pure shock. “How did I not know this?” I realized with a jolt how terrible of a wife I was. My knowledge of his social circle was stuck in our college days. I thought everything had stayed in the past, and I knew absolutely nothing about his current life. Ethan casually dropped another bombshell. “And you are his godmother. For his one-month celebration, I gave him a solid gold lock on your behalf.” So it wasn’t like I had imagined. He didn’t just come back once a year and essentially live permanently in Dubai. For Carter’s son’s one-month and two-year birthdays, Ethan had flown back personally, and even stopped by our apartment each time. It’s just that our timing was terrible, and we never actually crossed paths. “On his first birthday, I called you to ask if you wanted to come with me.” Before I could object, he continued: “A man answered the phone. He said you were sleeping and told me to screw off.” I practically slid right off the sofa, my legs trembling and my heart hammering in my chest. Ethan, however, looked completely unfazed by the possibility that he had been cheated on, and gently helped me back up. “Listen to me, it’s not what you think.” No man would ever casually answer my phone, and I definitely wouldn’t be sleeping next to another man. Except for one person: my younger cousin, Mason. He was two years younger than me. We grew up so close we practically shared everything. He wasn’t my biological brother, but he might as well have been. Ethan knew Mason existed, but their only interaction happened back in college… when I dumped Ethan. To ensure my humiliation of him was complete, I chose to break up with him at Mason’s birthday party. In front of everyone, the usually wild and arrogant young heir lost all his composure. He grabbed my hand, and his first instinct was to apologize. He had no idea what he had done wrong; he just desperately, humbly apologized and begged me not to end it. I impatiently shook off his hand, looking down at him with extreme arrogance. “Out of all the boyfriends I’ve had, you are the hardest to get rid of. A breakup is a breakup. I’m bored of you. Understand?” The scene was pure chaos. Looking back on it now, I genuinely felt like I couldn’t breathe. Mockery and insults flew from every direction, piercing Ethan like knives. But his eyes were only on me. Even though so many people looked down on his background, he was always proud. He had this lazy, indifferent look in his eyes, and occasionally, when he felt like it, he would use his wealth to aggressively shut down the snobby cliques that tried to corner him. None of us wanted to admit it, but we—this group of people—didn’t actually look down on him. We weren’t isolating him. We were just deeply insecure that our status was being challenged by him, and we couldn’t do anything about it. Wearing the crown of “old money,” we were secretly jealous of Ethan’s freedom and audacity. And no one wanted to admit that ever since Ethan beat a trash-talking rich kid half to death and then casually threw down a massive stack of cash to settle it, we had subconsciously started to fear him. The ability to force a powerful family’s heir to swallow his pride and accept a payout—that required terrifying financial power. My harsh words struck a massive blow to Ethan. Someone laughed: “Look at him. He looks like an abandoned dog.” Mason shoved his way to the front of the crowd, kicked the devastated Ethan to the ground, and laughed with his hands on his hips. “Who the hell do you think you are? You think you’re good enough for my sister? We wouldn’t even let you be her dog; you’re bad luck.” Given that background, I didn’t even dare invite Mason to our wedding. “So, what is the truth?” Ethan looked at me, his tone perfectly calm. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. I prepared for the worst. “That was Mason.” Ethan’s expression softened. It wasn’t the angry, resentful reaction I had expected upon hearing his enemy’s name. Instead, he seemed to suddenly relax, the tension leaving his face. “Okay, I understand.” The storm I had braced myself for never came. Ethan answered a phone call. I sneaked a glance at him, and he caught me staring. The person on the other end seemed to be a close friend. The corners of his mouth lifted into a smile. He kept his eyes on me, but said to the phone, “Yeah, she’s home. Alright, let me ask her.” I snapped back to reality when I heard him ask me: “Do you have any plans later? Let’s go see our godson.” Caught red-handed staring at him, I felt incredibly guilty. I nodded frantically, agreeing to whatever he said. 6 Carter should absolutely hate my guts. In college, he followed Ethan’s every command. When I was dating Ethan, Carter treated me with the utmost respect, always greeting me with a huge smile. Later, when I teamed up with everyone to orchestrate that massive humiliation against Ethan, Carter stormed into my house, looking so terrifying I thought he was going to murder me. Somehow, he held back his rage. He just pointed at me and said, “Serena, don’t you ever regret this.” How could I not regret it? I regretted it to death. The moment Ethan was kicked out of Mason’s party, I instantly regretted it. A spot in my chest went numb with pain, but I still had to force a smile and deal with the empty flattery of my friends. I fully expected Carter to give me the cold shoulder today. But the moment I stepped through his front doors, he and his wife were holding a little toddler, greeting us with warm smiles. Honestly, I knew almost everyone in the room by reputation. Every single one of them was a top-tier talent in their respective fields, armed with power and influence. Birds of a feather flock together. I thought about my group of aimless, partying friends, and for a moment, I felt so inferior I couldn’t even lift my head. Someone joked, “When it comes to being protective of a wife, Ethan is on another level. It’s been three years, and you finally bring her out for us to see.” Ethan peeled an orange for me, meticulously removing the white pith. “Serena and I don’t get to see each other much. Whenever I come back, I barely have enough time to spend with her. Why would I waste time on you guys?” Even though I knew he was just playing the part for the crowd, my heart still betrayingly started hammering against my ribs. I looked up at him, and he was looking back at me. His gaze was intense and gentle, just like it was all those years ago. Someone walked in. When he saw me, he froze for a second before easily falling into familiar banter. “Long time no see, sister-in-law. You’re looking even more beautiful.” I looked up at him, taking a long time to dig his identity out of my memory. He was Ethan’s absolute best friend, Colin. They had known each other long before Ethan’s family struck it rich. After graduating, he followed Ethan overseas as his right-hand man. He had fought his way up and was now a powerhouse executive in the Thorne empire. When we got married, he was still in Dubai managing the mines. So, this was our first time seeing each other in six years. I smiled back. “It really has been a long time.” The little toddler, encouraged by his mom, waddled over to me. He timidly hugged my leg and handed me a paper airplane he had folded himself. “Godmother, you’re even prettier than my mommy.” Everyone burst out laughing. Blushing, I accepted my godson’s gift and dug a piece of chocolate out of my purse for him. The atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted. Ethan stared at the chocolate in my hand, looking uncharacteristically distracted. The arrogant, eighteen-year-old Ethan had one fatal flaw: he was prone to low blood sugar. But he never cared. He still drank himself into a stupor every night. At the underground street racing tracks on the outskirts of the city, he would get behind the wheel of a supercar and slam the gas pedal like he had a death wish. While I was chasing him, I found out about this. I started stocking my purse with all kinds of snacks. Different types of candies, chocolates, and even a bottle of glucose water were always on hand. A dizzy, disoriented Ethan peeled open a candy I gave him, popped it into his mouth, and spit it out a second later. “Disgusting.” I patiently offered him other options. “I have other brands. See which one you like?” “They’re all disgusting.” To capture his heart, I put in an insane amount of effort. I heard there was a private, artisanal chocolate shop in the UK famous for its handmade chocolates. I flew thousands of miles just to buy it, carefully protecting it all the way back to New York. Finally, I earned a genuine look of appreciation from Ethan. After that, I always kept it stocked in my bag. When we were dating, every time we met, the first thing I did was pop a piece of that chocolate into his mouth. The little toddler was a good kid who knew how to share. He broke off a piece and gave it to his mom. Carter’s wife ate it and looked incredibly surprised. “I know this brand! But didn’t the owner of this shop turn out to be an international fugitive? He got interviewed by local media because his chocolate was so good, which blew his cover, and he was arrested and sent to prison, right?” As soon as she said that, everyone turned to look at me. Back in college, Ethan used to brag endlessly. He told anyone who would listen that his girlfriend was the absolute best, flying to the UK once a month like clockwork just to buy his favorite chocolate. So almost everyone in the room knew the backstory. I laughed awkwardly. “Um, I actually made this myself.” I didn’t understand why, even after breaking up with Ethan, I kept up the habit of flying all the way to the UK to buy that specific chocolate. Until one day, I went back to the shop, and it was completely empty. The only person left was the fugitive’s apprentice, sitting there crying over the recipe. I stayed in the UK for over six months. I enrolled in baking classes, visited every chocolate factory in the surrounding countries, and finally found a master chocolatier who could reverse-engineer and recreate the exact flavor. I learned the craft from him.

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After being canceled and chased off the internet, I quit the entertainment industry, went home, and started selling bags as an intern sales associate at a luxury boutique. My arch-nemesis specifically came to the store just to humiliate me. She demanded that I get on my knees to serve her, threatening to have me fired on the spot if I refused, claiming she was the brand CEO’s handpicked global spokesperson for the upcoming season. Did no one tell her that my family literally owns this brand? “I’m sorry, but when did I ever say I was going to sign you?” 01 When I announced my retirement from acting, reporters asked me what I planned to do next. I casually replied that I was going home to help my parents sell bags. I was mercilessly mocked by the entire internet. But little did they know, they probably couldn’t even afford the bags my family sells… VALERIA is a top-tier luxury brand founded by my grandparents. Under my parents’ management, it has grown to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Hermès and Louis Vuitton as a global ultra-luxury powerhouse. Even our most basic entry-level bag costs tens of thousands of dollars. To build my character and business acumen, my parents insisted I start from the very bottom. I was assigned to one of our flagship boutiques as an intern sales associate. Who would have thought that on my very first day, my former nemesis would come looking for trouble. The moment Stella Monroe walked through the doors, her tone was dripping with passive-aggression. “Well, well, if it isn’t Harper Kensington? Did you think that by becoming a VALERIA salesgirl, you’d magically be able to afford the bags here?” The customer is always right. I bit my tongue and endured it. But she escalated, blatantly stepping her muddy shoe onto the glass coffee table I had just polished: “Kneel down.” Me: ? “These shoes are VALERIA. Don’t you guys offer complimentary maintenance? Maintain them for me.” Me: … Stella and I used to compete for the same type of roles. To get ahead of me, she had spent a fortune buying hit pieces and hiring bot farms to manipulate public opinion against me. The fact that I was cyberbullied to the point of leaving the industry had everything to do with her. It was just my own stubbornness; I hadn’t wanted to rely on my family’s connections. But even now that I had retired, she still wouldn’t let me be. “Ma’am, please take off your shoes. I’ll have a specialist take care of them.” “No, I want you to do it,” Stella smirked. “And I want you on your knees while you wipe them!” My face went cold: “I’m sorry, ma’am, our brand doesn’t offer that specific service.” “Harper, I am your client now! I am your God! You have to do whatever God tells you to do! You’re just a lowly salesgirl, what right do you have to talk back to me?!” “Believe it or not, I can have VALERIA fire you right this second!” Oh, wow. So powerful? She’d have to convince my parents to disown me first. I stayed silent, and Stella assumed I was scared. She looked incredibly smug: “You should be scared. After all, I’m about to become VALERIA’s spokesperson for the next season. If you wait until then to get on your knees, it’ll be too late.” I paused: “Spokesperson?” “Yeah. A resource that countless A-listers are fighting for. My agent is already in talks with the head of VALERIA’s marketing department.” I fell deep into thought. The department my parents wanted me to take over was Marketing. When did I ever agree to sign this piece of trash? 02 Of course, I didn’t serve Stella. Failing to get her way, she started finding faults. I brought out over a dozen different items, and she complained about every single one. Finally, she settled on a basic bag that cost a little under twenty thousand dollars. That was fine, but when it was time to check out, she suddenly pushed me aside and pointed to the store manager standing nearby: “You ring me up. The commission for this sale goes to you.” Manager Brenda Higgins beamed with joy and quickly started bagging the item. Just as the payment was about to go through, I suddenly remembered something. “Wait, this bag cannot be sold.” Stella was furious: “What do you mean?” “This specific bag was reserved by a client a long time ago.” Brenda thought I was just trying to steal her commission: “Harper, you’re new, so I didn’t want to scold you, but was that the proper attitude for serving a VIP? Furthermore, you say it’s reserved, but I’m the store manager, how come I don’t know about it?” “Yeah, Manager Brenda, how could you not know?” I gave her a cold glance and pulled up the system data on the tablet. The warehouse had sent a message three days ago, allocating this exact bag to our store for a client’s reservation. The client had specifically chosen in-store pickup at our location. “As the manager of a flagship store, how could you forget something so important? The client could walk through those doors at any minute. How would you explain this to them? This is a VVIP who spends over a million dollars a year.” Brenda’s face turned an ugly shade of gray. After Stella left, Brenda immediately began to mock me. “A loser who couldn’t survive in Hollywood really thinks she’s still a star.” I looked at her: “Excuse me, what did you say?” “What? Can’t handle the truth?” Brenda, oblivious to my true identity, laughed brazenly. “The whole country knows you came to work the register because you couldn’t hack it as an actress. It’s hilarious. Take a good look at your name tag. You’re just an intern.” She had a highly punchable look on her face. “And I am the manager of this store. Don’t you know the store manager has the ultimate authority here? Little girl, whether you pass your probation and become a permanent employee is entirely up to me.” …Oh, I was shaking in my boots. I couldn’t be bothered to entertain her, but the drama for the day wasn’t over. Right before closing, my former agent suddenly texted me. Stella had uploaded a video of me working as a salesgirl, and it was going viral. 03 It turned out that earlier today, during a busy moment when I was running back and forth grabbing inventory, Stella had secretly recorded me. “My old friend Harper is actually working as a salesgirl now. So pitiful. She’s definitely the most tragic former star I’ve ever seen. So, I went out of my way to support her at work today. #GirlsHelpGirls! I hope Harper gets through these tough times soon.” …What a twisted version of GHG. Uninformed netizens flooded the comments, praising her for being beautiful and kind-hearted. She also “accidentally” let slip that she might be collaborating with VALERIA soon. Her fans celebrated all night, guessing what kind of collaboration it would be. —Even if she was just a brand ambassador, for Stella, it would be a massive elevation in status. My situation, however, was vastly different. For me, there was only mockery. When I was an actress, the biggest thing I was hated for was my “Princess Syndrome.” When I first debuted, I didn’t understand the manipulative games of the industry. Whenever someone dug a hole for me, I jumped right in. In the end, I was edited on reality TV to look like I had a terrible temper and severe Princess Syndrome. Stella was the exact opposite; she portrayed herself as hardworking, gentle, and considerate. Only later did I find out that her team had bribed the editors to intentionally cut footage to make me look awful, just to make her look better by comparison. And now, I was a salesgirl. The trolls laughed at me: “Haha, the fake princess’s royal dreams are shattered.” “The fake princess dreamt of buying VALERIA, so she went to be a salesgirl there.” “Can the fake princess afford VALERIA today? Nope, still can’t.” Oh, right. “Fake Princess” was the new nickname the trolls had given me. That night, I didn’t go back to my small rented apartment in the city. Instead, I went to my parents’ massive estate in the Hamptons for dinner. My parents had seen the news too, and their hearts ached for me. “Harper, why don’t we just issue a clarification? Let’s tell everyone you’re the heir to VALERIA.” “No need, Mom and Dad. I still need to conduct my undercover investigation at the store.” That’s right. I had another motive for volunteering to be an intern salesgirl. That specific boutique had an alarmingly high customer churn rate. I volunteered to find out why. Before I uncovered the truth, I couldn’t blow my cover. My mom kept piling prime steak onto my plate: “You’re so stubborn. You never want to rely on us.” “By the way, Mom, what’s the deal with the spokesperson for next season?” “Isn’t that for you to decide? You’ve been in that industry; you definitely know the landscape better than we do. Commercial value is only one aspect. More importantly, they need to have good character and not damage VALERIA’s image.” “You didn’t say you were going to sign Stella Monroe, did you?” My mom shook her head: “I know you two don’t get along. Even if she were the last celebrity on earth, I wouldn’t sign her. It’s just that she recently hooked up with a sugar daddy who does business with our family, and he keeps recommending her to your dad.” No wonder. Because of her sugar daddy’s recommendation, Stella thought the deal was in the bag. But she didn’t know that my parents are fiercely protective of me. What does a business partner matter? Their precious daughter is their whole world! My mom asked if we should clarify the spokesperson rumors. Not only did I say no, but I also told the marketing department to intentionally leak some vague, promising rumors. Stella fell for it completely and was ecstatic. She bought PR articles in advance, hyping herself up subtly and overtly. Her fans and the media even started calling her “VALERIA’s Own Daughter.” Well, now things were getting fun. 04 Historically, VALERIA had only ever signed male global spokespersons. Under my initiative, my parents planned to sign our first female spokesperson this time. An international ultra-luxury brand, and the first female spokesperson in its history—wouldn’t that essentially be treating her like their “Own Daughter”? Within half a month, Stella hyped up the rumor ten times and dragged down other female stars to elevate herself five times. Without even realizing it, she had made countless enemies for herself. I hosted a live stream to address the whole “selling bags” situation. “Yes, I am working as a sales associate.” “I won’t be making a comeback, and this isn’t a PR stunt. I just realized I didn’t have the talent to be an actress.” “Who knows, maybe I have a talent for selling bags? Everyone is welcome to come shop at VALERIA.” In front of the camera, I was poised and elegant, facing the attacks with grace and confidence. By the end of the live stream, I had actually gained quite a few new fans. A few days later. While doing inventory at the store, I discovered a bag was missing. When I asked the other associates, they acted like it was normal: “The store manager probably borrowed it.” “Borrowed it?” “She said Stella needed to do a live stream at the mall, so she borrowed it for her to show off…” I couldn’t believe my ears. “That’s a limited-edition exotic leather bag! There are less than two hundred of them globally! Is she out of her mind, lending it out to someone?!” I was furious. Today, I was going to teach certain people a lesson! Speak of the devil, Stella arrived. Word on the street was that she saw I had gained fans from my live stream, so she jumped on the bandwagon and started a “shopping” live stream of her own. She had that limited-edition emerald green bag slung over her arm. “We’re at VALERIA! Everyone knows this is a brand I frequent. Look, the one I’m carrying today is VALERIA’s latest global limited edition. It’s incredibly hard to get~” She signaled her crew to push the camera closer for a macro shot of the bag. I was lurking in her live stream, glancing at the chat. They were all praising her— “Wow, I know that bag! It’s insanely expensive!” “Aww, our Stella is such a cute, wealthy heiress.” “Who knows, maybe VALERIA gifted it to her. After all, Stella is VALERIA’s ‘Own Daughter’~” “Wait? Is that Harper in the store?” “It is! Two actresses who debuted together: one is selling the bags, the other is endorsing them. Tsk tsk.” At that moment, Stella announced she was going to do a “What’s in my bag” segment. “Here are my tissues.” “Here’s my cardholder.” “Ah, and this is my VALERIA Black Card. You can only get upgraded to this VIP Black Card if you spend over a million dollars a year. You get a lot of perks, like— You guys know, some luxury stores won’t bring out all their new arrivals for you to see. But with this card, when I go to the counter, I can pick from every new arrival in the store.” She could barely hide her urge to show off. I sneered aloud: “But that card of yours is already expired.” “What?” Stella rolled her eyes at me. “Harper, you’ve probably never even seen this card before, right? I’ll forgive you. If you don’t know what you’re talking about, don’t speak.” I spoke loudly and clearly: “The Black Card was upgraded and redesigned two years ago with a new pattern. That card in your hand expired at least two years ago.” “Furthermore, for clients holding the VIP Black Card, there’s absolutely no need to come to the counter personally. We deliver the new arrivals directly to their mansions for them to choose from at their leisure.” As my words fell, a comical silence filled the room. 05 Stella’s live stream was forced to pause. She was livid. Actually, I wasn’t even finished. I wanted to look up the registered owner of that card. It was more than likely someone else’s. She had gotten her hands on an expired Black Card from somewhere and dared to show it off without knowing a thing about how it worked. Stella and her crew surrounded me, uttering threats. “Harper, once I officially become VALERIA’s spokesperson, you are dead meat!” “Oh, I’ll be waiting.” Her agent wasn’t about to be outdone: “Little girl, do you not understand how this industry works? I have plenty of ways to ruin you.” “Such as?” “I can make sure you can’t survive in this city! Unless you clarify things right now, apologize, and say you made it all up.” The agent was a greasy, overweight man with a sleazy look in his eyes. “And if I don’t? A young girl walking home alone at night… things can get dangerous.” “Sure,” I agreed quickly. The live stream resumed. The number of viewers had doubled; everyone was here for the drama. Stella smiled sweetly: “Sorry for the wait, everyone. The signal was bad just now. My card is actually a personalized, custom-designed card. Harper just saw it wrong.” The camera turned to me. I smiled faintly, and in front of millions of viewers, I dialed my phone. “Hello, 911? I’d like to report a theft. Someone stole a bag from our store valued at $180,000.” 06 The color drained from both Stella’s and Brenda’s faces. The police arrived quickly. Stella panicked: “I bought this bag myself! The store manager can testify!” Brenda nodded sycophantically. Police Officer: “Then please show us the receipt.” Stella was dumbfounded. Brenda quickly changed her tune: “It was borrowed!” “Borrowed?” “Yes, I lent it to her! I am the manager of this store. Officer, someone intentionally filed a false police report, thinking everyone has as much free time as she does. You must teach her a lesson.” She glared at me. But Manager Brenda didn’t know that I was waiting for exactly that sentence. “Well, that makes things easy, Officer. Manager Brenda just confessed to stealing the bag.” Brenda shrieked: “Are you deaf? I said it was borrowed!” “Borrowed from whom? Do you have a loan agreement?” “I am the store manager! I don’t need a loan agreement from anyone!” “Brenda, you must be confused,” I looked at her coldly. “You are only a store manager, not the owner of VALERIA. Every item on display in this store belongs to VALERIA, not you! What right do you have to lend a bag to someone else?” “Taking company property without permission is theft.” “Or perhaps—you used to do this all the time?” Brenda was left speechless, her face ashen. The police took her away. Stella managed to escape being arrested, but because of the huge commotion, a massive crowd of onlookers had already gathered. In no time, videos of the incident from every angle were all over the internet. Stella was trending again. If the card and the bag were fake, what else was real? Was her collaboration with VALERIA fake too? Stella was mocked relentlessly across the internet. But, this was only the beginning. 07 Later, Stella’s agent actually came looking for me. I didn’t even give him a chance to speak; I just played the recording of him threatening me. “Tell me, if this gets out, what will people think?” “I’m guessing the internet will say: an agent with such blatant disregard for the law couldn’t possibly manage any decent artists.” “Tsk. Even if you don’t care about Stella, do you really want to drag down all the other artists you manage?” Hearing this, the agent completely changed his tune, begging for a settlement. However, surprisingly, Brenda soon returned to work. She hadn’t received any punishment and continued to serve as the store manager. In fact, she was even more arrogant than before. She started making things difficult for me openly, leading the others to ostracize me. I investigated the past complaint records. I found that every time Brenda received a severe customer complaint, she returned to work completely unscathed. A coworker quietly told me that Brenda’s husband was a mid-level executive. Her past complaints, and even the recent “stolen bag” incident, were all suppressed by her husband. No wonder. I went home and reported this to my parents. My dad said: “Good job, sweetie. You can just fire her directly.” I shook my head: “Firing her directly wouldn’t be fun.” “Then what do you want to do?” I chewed on some lobster and said slowly: “During this time, I’ve noticed the discipline at our physical stores is very loose, and there’s even a phenomenon of ‘judging customers by their appearance.’ I plan to make an example out of someone for all the store managers globally, and Brenda is the perfect target. It’s not too late to execute her once I’ve sharpened my knife.” My dad laughed heartily: “That’s my girl.” 08 On Sunday, Brenda and I were on shift together. In the evening, a customer came into the store. She was an older woman, slightly hunched over, dressed very plainly, and the tote bag in her hand even had patches on it. Brenda rolled her eyes, sat down on the VIP sofa, and started playing on her phone. The older woman said she wanted to look at some bags. Brenda replied impatiently: “They’re all on the shelves. Look for yourself.” The woman then said she was looking for a dark-colored shoulder bag. “We don’t have any! Do you even know how much a bag here costs? Can you afford it?” The older woman froze. I quickly went over, poured her some tea, brought out all the shoulder bags we had, and let her choose. She didn’t like the first few she looked at. Brenda gloated from the side: “Serves you right for having zero sales. Go wait on the poor ghost.” “Shut up. Is that how you speak to a customer? Ma’am, please ignore her. It’s your right to buy or not; don’t lower yourself to her level.” The older woman thanked me profusely. Then, she pointed at three bags I had brought out and said, emotionally: “I’ll take them all.” Me: “Excuse me?” “And please recommend a men’s briefcase for me too.” “Oh, and do you have clothes here? Put together an outfit for me, shoes included.” Brenda was dumbfounded: “Do you know how much all of this will cost? You can’t afford it!” The older woman finally lost her temper: “Who says I can’t afford it? My son’s tech startup just went public. I could buy out your entire store!” Brenda was completely stunned. It turned out she was a literal gold mine. The older woman bought a massive pile of items. Finally, from her patched-up tote bag, she pulled out the keys to a Maserati. Before leaving, she glared at Brenda. “If it weren’t for this young lady’s good attitude, I would definitely file a formal complaint against you!” Brenda had already changed her tune, bowing and scraping: “Ma’am! Let me walk you to the parking lot. How about this, let me add you on WhatsApp. Next time you come, let me know in advance, and I will definitely give you the best service.” “Get lost! Don’t even think about getting a single cent of commission from me!” Brenda: “…” Hehe, having a VIP customer back you up feels amazing. After the customer left, Brenda glared at me, venting her frustration. “Harper, how did you speak to me just now? Telling a senior colleague to shut up, are you polite? Is that how your parents raised you?” I completely ignored her. She was furious: “Looks like I’ll have to teach you a lesson myself!” Brenda rushed over and tried to slap me. I ducked and dodged it. In return, I gave her two slaps. “You want to talk to me about politeness? That was for the customer just now.” I followed up with a few more slaps. “And these are for all the customers you’ve looked down on in the past.” Brenda screamed: “You little bitch! Believe it or not, I’ll ruin you!” I curled my lips into a smile and walked away gracefully.

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I transmigrated into this book just as the story was reaching its grand finale. I was standing at the altar with the male lead, Harrison Sterling, surrounded by the cheers and blessings of the elite. But after taking a single phone call, the color drained from Harrison’s face. He shoved me aside without a word and sprinted out of the church. Oh, if I remembered the timeline correctly, the female lead had probably just “attempted” suicide and was currently being rushed to the ER. 1 I had become the villainous “True Heiress” in a classic switched-at-birth melodrama. I was the biological daughter; the female lead was the one who took my place. Once the truth came out, I was brought back to the wealthy Vance family, and the female lead, Brianna, was supposedly cast out. Everything that once belonged to her—the doting parents, the handsome billionaire fiancé, the vast Vance fortune—all fell into my hands. Brianna went from a princess to a pauper overnight. The parents who raised her for eighteen years turned their backs; the brother who once spoiled her called her a “thief” who stole my life; her childhood sweetheart fiancé broke off their engagement immediately. Brianna spent the rest of the book trying to prove she wasn’t a gold-digger. She claimed she never wanted to fight me for anything. She just wanted “family.” She tried to work at the Vance Group to show her worth, but my father assumed she was trying to steal my inheritance and fired her. 她 gave me a gift to bridge the gap, but my brother Caleb thought she was trying to poison me and slapped her across the face. She even showed up at my wedding to Harrison to offer her “blessings,” only to be labeled a homewrecker by the guests and cyberbullied into oblivion. Finally, at the peak of my wedding, a broken Brianna chose to end it all. But her suicide was the catalyst for everyone else’s “awakening.” My parents suddenly remembered the eighteen years they spent raising her. Caleb remembered the sweet little girl who used to follow him around. Harrison remembered how hard she used to try to make him smile. Suddenly, everyone was drowning in regret. To make matters worse, Brianna’s “secret diary” was conveniently discovered after her death. It was filled with her love for the Vance family, her pining for Harrison, and her guilt toward me. She apologized to everyone, over and over, stating she never wanted the money—she just wanted to be loved. The guilt consumed them. They vowed to spend the rest of their lives making it up to her. After she recovered, she was welcomed back into the family with open arms. Harrison realized he truly loved her, and after a series of dramatic “pursuits,” they got their happily ever after. As for me, the “villainess,” I became so consumed by jealousy that I tried to run Brianna over with a car. In the end, she escaped without a scratch, and I was the one who died in the wreckage. 2 I entered the story right at the climax of the wedding. The priest was just getting to the good part: “Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer…” I looked at Harrison, then at the crowd, and calmly shook my head. “I don’t.” The silence that followed was deafening. Harrison leaned in, his voice a frantic whisper. “Natalie, what are you doing? Everyone is watching.” I glanced pointedly at his pocket, where his phone had been vibrating non-stop. “You have a call,” I said helpfully. Harrison pulled out his phone and looked at the screen. He recognized the number. His brow furrowed instinctively, and he moved to silence it. I reached out and stopped his hand. “Don’t hang up. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you do.” In the original plot, Brianna regretted her decision after cutting her wrists and hit the speed-dial for Harrison, begging him to save her. But Harrison, in the middle of his wedding, ignored the calls. Brianna nearly died because she missed that window for help. Those dozen missed calls became a major “angst point” in their future romance. But this time, I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of a tragic misunderstanding. After all, saving a life is a noble deed. Seeing my persistence, Harrison answered. A second later, his face turned ghost-white. He shoved me back and bolted out of the chapel. The guests erupted. Confusion, shock, and a few smug smiles from my rivals hit me all at once. My parents and Caleb rushed to my side, their faces a mix of worry and rage. Before they could speak, I let the words spill out: “Mom, Dad… Harrison just got a call from Brianna. “I think I heard her say she… she did something to herself. She begged him to come save her.” My mother’s face went pale. You don’t just stop loving a child you raised for two decades. She swayed on her feet, her voice trembling. “She… she tried to kill herself? Where is she? Is she at a hospital?” Even my stoic father clenched his fists in visible distress. I forced a weak, pale smile. “I don’t know. The reception was bad…” “It doesn’t matter. Robert, find out where she is! I have to see her!” My mother stopped mid-sentence, looking at me with a sudden, guilty start. She realized her other daughter—her biological one—had just been abandoned at the altar because of Brianna, and was currently the laughingstock of the city. I did my best to look like I was holding it together. “Go,” I said softly. “It’s okay. You guys should go. I can handle things here. “Brianna might be in critical condition. If anything happens to her while you’re here…” I looked down, playing the martyr. “I understand. You lived together for twenty years. You can’t just flip a switch on those feelings.” In the original book, the original Natalie threw a massive tantrum, screaming and forbidding her parents from seeing Brianna. That only made her look like a monster and made her parents feel even more guilty toward the “victim.” This time, I was the one pushing them to go. As they left, they kept looking back at me with eyes full of sorrow and shame. “Caleb, you should go too,” I said, my voice cracking perfectly. Caleb shook his head. “There are enough people there already,” he said quietly. “I’ll stay here with you.” 3 In the original story, Brianna nearly died because Harrison arrived too late. This time, because he left the second she called, she barely had a scratch. The doctors bandaged her up, gave her some fluids, and told her she could go home. When my parents arrived at the hospital, they expected to see her on her deathbed. Instead, they found a perfectly healthy-looking Brianna sitting up in bed, chatting with Harrison. Aside from a few layers of gauze on her wrist, she looked exactly the same. And then they remembered: their biological daughter was currently standing in a deserted church because of this girl. Their sympathy took a sharp turn into irritation. “Dad! Mom!” Brianna’s eyes lit up, then she quickly lowered her head, looking like a kicked puppy. “Mr. Vance… Mrs. Vance…” “Right,” my mother said, her voice strained. “The doctor says you’re fine?” Brianna tucked her hand behind her back, whispering, “I’m okay. It was just a small cut. I’m so sorry I worried you…” “You should be,” my father snapped. “You’re an adult. Do you have any idea what the consequences of your actions are?” Brianna’s eyes filled with tears instantly. Her parents—the people who used to never raise their voice at her—were looking at her with coldness. Did blood matter that much? Did twenty years mean nothing? “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, head bowed. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I really didn’t. I just… I just…” “You didn’t mean it? You chose the day of Natalie and Harrison’s wedding?” my father interrupted. “You chose the exact moment they were saying their vows? “You have hundreds of contacts in your phone, and you didn’t call 911? You called the groom? “Even if you didn’t have a single friend to call, are you telling me you don’t know how to dial an emergency number?” Brianna stared at him, stunned. She realized he thought she had done it on purpose to ruin the wedding. But she hadn’t! She just… she was just panicked! She didn’t know what to do, so she called the person she trusted most! Was she really that low in their eyes now just because she wasn’t “biological”? Her heart felt like it was being squeezed. She wanted to scream, to cry, to beg for a hug, but she knew it would only make them hate her more. She swallowed her tears and bowed deeply. “I am so sorry. I was immature. I didn’t think it through. “I swear, I never meant to hurt Natalie. “Please tell her I’m sorry. And tell her…” Brianna took a shaky breath. “Tell her I’m leaving. I won’t ever show my face to any of you again. I won’t cause any more trouble. “Mr. and Mrs. Vance, thank you for everything. For all those years. “I’m sorry for the pain I caused. I wish you and Natalie all the best.” She turned and ran out of the hospital room before anyone could stop her. My mother watched her go, a flicker of pain crossing her face. Even my stern father went silent, stepping into the hallway to light a cigarette. 4 When they got home, the atmosphere was heavy. I was waiting for them with a gentle smile. After listening to them describe Brianna’s “miraculous” recovery, I sighed softly. “Dad, Mom… maybe we should just let Brianna move back in. “It’s just another set of silverware, after all.” They both looked at me in shock. My father was the first to shake his head. “No. She moved out. There’s no reason for her to come back. “Natalie, don’t overthink this. You are the only daughter of this family. “We made a mistake before, but now that it’s fixed, she doesn’t belong here.” I sighed again, looking deeply concerned. “I know you’re saying this for me. You don’t want me to feel insecure. “But I really don’t mind. “She was just a baby when the switch happened. She’s a victim too. I can’t blame her for what happened. “Besides, you raised her for twenty years. You can’t just delete that. “I see how much you’re hurting. You’re cold to her because you’re trying to protect my feelings, but I know it’s hard for you. “I don’t want you to be unhappy. Let her come home.” “Natalie… do you really mean that?” my mother asked, her voice cracking. “I do. More than anything.” I gave them my most “supportive daughter” smile. In a system like this, suppression only leads to rebellion. If I let them suppress their love for Brianna, it would only fester into resentment toward me. Better to bring it all into the light. Besides, Brianna always claimed she didn’t want the money—just the love. Fine. I’ll give her all the “love” she can handle. Let’s see if she’s really as pure and selfless as she claims to be. 5 For twenty years, Brianna was the jewel of the Vance family, a princess who never knew a day of hardship. Now that she was back, she acted like a frightened animal. She stood at the front door, clutching a battered suitcase, watching my face as if I were a judge about to pass sentence. She wouldn’t even step inside until I gave her a nod. I saw the flash of pain in my parents’ eyes. But because I was there, they didn’t say a word. Tsk. I really did look like the villain breaking up their happy little family. I love being the bad guy. I curled my lips into a smile and looked at her. “Come in. Why are you just standing there? It’s your home too. Don’t be so formal.” Brianna walked in, but her head stayed down. She wouldn’t look at me. The silence was awkward, so my mother spoke up. “Brianna, I had the staff get your room ready. It’s the one at the end of the hall on the second floor. “Go check it out. Let us know if you need anything.” Brianna looked overwhelmed, but she quickly shook her head. “It’s okay, Mrs. Vance… I… I can just stay in the maid’s quarters. I don’t deserve such a nice room.” I felt a headache coming on. Is “self-inflicted suffering” a mandatory skill for every tragic heroine? The Vance estate had dozens of empty rooms. Her staying in one changed nothing. Staying in the maid’s room served no purpose other than making herself miserable and making everyone else feel like shit. Oh, wait. It did serve a purpose. It made my parents feel sorry for her. I watched her standing there, all “poor me,” saying, “It’s fine, I can sleep anywhere.” I lost my patience. I grabbed her suitcase and marched it up to the second floor myself. “I said, make yourself at home,” I said coldly. “Food, clothes, whatever you need—just ask. Don’t play the martyr. The Vance family isn’t going bankrupt over a few extra expenses. You don’t need to suffer just for the sake of it.” Brianna stared at me, then lowered her head again. “Okay. Thank you, Natalie.” She scurried into her room like a startled quail. Watching her act like she was being bullied when no one had even touched her was exhausting. My mother approached me tentatively. “Natalie… are you upset? “If you don’t want her here, we can find her an apartment.” I shook my head and smiled. “Mom, don’t say that. “She just got back. If you kick her out again, her heart will break. “I’m not upset. Don’t worry about me.” “You’re such a good girl,” my mother said, taking my hand. “I do care about Brianna, I won’t lie. “But no matter what, you are my biological daughter. I will always stand by you. “If she ever makes you uncomfortable, tell me. I’ll send her away immediately. “You don’t have to sacrifice your happiness for anyone. “You’re too mature for your own good, hiding everything inside. It breaks my heart.” Looking at the genuine love in her eyes, I felt a spark of warmth. I gave her my first real smile since arriving in this world. “I know, Mom. I won’t be a doormat. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine.” 6 To be fair, I didn’t actually hate Brianna. In the original book, Brianna was pure, kind, and innocent. She left the family the moment she found out the truth and never once attacked Natalie. It was Natalie who was consumed by spite and ended up destroying herself. Brianna simply “inherited” Natalie’s life because she was better at being loved. The parents loved her—well, they had twenty years of history. Caleb loved her—he’d watched her grow up. Harrison loved her—he just “discovered” it. Everyone was just following their hearts. Natalie was just “evil” by nature. But who made her that way? If she hadn’t been raised by abusive, poverty-stricken strangers while someone else lived her life, she wouldn’t have been so bitter. She could have been the “pure white lily” too. I wasn’t here to play social justice warrior for the original Natalie. I was just curious. If I put this pure white lily in actual mud, would she stay white? You want family? You want love? Fine. I’ll give you all the love in the world. But the Vance fortune, the status, the career, the legacy… You aren’t touching any of it. I hope your “pure heart” is enough to pay the bills when the reality of being a “supporting character” sets in. 7 “The engagement is off.” I sat across from Harrison Sterling in a quiet café. His handsome face darkened, his jaw tightening. “About the wedding… I can explain.” “Don’t bother. It’s not about that.” “I just don’t think we’re a good fit,” I said simply. Harrison let out a cold laugh. “Are you really going to pull this now?” “No one is pulling anything,” I said calmly. “Let’s just give each other some dignity and end it cleanly.” Harrison narrowed his eyes, searching my face. I met his gaze without flinching. He was the first to blink. “Fine. I messed up by leaving the altar. I apologized. “But our marriage is a merger between the Sterlings and the Vances. “You should talk to your parents before you make such a reckless decision.” “If you think you can use my parents to pressure me, you’re mistaken. We already talked. “They agree with me. And as for our business dealings, we’ll be re-evaluating those too. “Since you’re so focused on this being a business arrangement, let’s talk business. “Trust is the foundation of any partnership. “A man who abandons his partner in the middle of a high-stakes event isn’t someone I want to do business with. “Your character is… questionable, Harrison.” I didn’t give him an inch. Harrison looked like he wanted to scream, but he forced a sneer instead. “Has anyone ever told you that aggressive women aren’t very attractive to men?” “And men who judge women based on their ‘attractiveness’ aren’t very useful in the boardroom.” I was done with this “Alpha Male” posturing. But I had one question. “Since you chose to leave our wedding to save Brianna… “It’s clear you have feelings for her. Why don’t you just be with her?” In the original plot, Harrison should have realized his love for Brianna the moment she bled. He should have called off the wedding himself. But lately, there hadn’t been a single spark between them. Harrison looked uncomfortable. “Brianna and I… it’s just a sibling thing. “She’s too immature. I need a partner who can stand beside me in business, not a child I have to babysit. “Besides, she isn’t a Vance anymore. My family would never allow me to marry someone with no assets.” Wow. I had never heard anyone admit to being a gold-digger with such pride. I wondered how “epic” their romance in the original book really was. If he loved her so much, why did he drop her the second she lost her status? Why did he wait until Natalie was “dead” and Brianna was the “sole heir” to start his “pursuit”? Maybe his “belated love” was just an interest in the 100% inheritance she’d just received. I felt a wave of nausea. I was done playing this game. “Mr. Sterling, I’m not asking for your permission today. I’m giving you notice. “The engagement is over. Let’s not make this uglier than it already is.” I stood up and walked away, ignoring his furious expression. I didn’t know what Brianna saw in him. Two parasites in love. Boring. I pulled out my phone and called Caleb. “Hey, Caleb? Yeah, it’s done. Don’t worry. “Is the paperwork ready at the office? “Great. Thanks, big brother.” With my executive onboarding finally set, I allowed myself a real smile.

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My parents were always a little too kind to our housekeeper, treating her more like family than an employee. When her daughter came to stay with us for the summer, she slowly tried to weave herself into our lives—acting diligent, sweet-talking my parents, and playing the part of the perfect girl. She even started using our family driver to take her to parties, and my parents, in their generosity, always allowed it. That was until I came home early one day and overheard her coaxing my mother: “Auntie, since Riley is committed to being child-free anyway, she’ll never give you grandbabies.” “Why don’t you just take me in as your legal god-daughter? I could marry your nephew, Parker. That way, the babies stay in the family, and you can finally have the big, happy family you deserve.” 1 Mrs. Dawson had been acting distracted lately. Her chores were half-done, and she seemed to be carrying a heavy weight on her shoulders. Worried, my mom finally pulled her aside to ask what was wrong. It turned out her daughter, Tiffany, was finishing up her junior year at a community college in the city. With summer break starting, the dorms were closing, and she had nowhere to go. They were from a small town across the country, and a last-minute flight home was too expensive. Besides, Tiffany had an internship lined up in the city starting next month, and the back-and-forth travel would be a waste of money. But renting a place near us? A month’s rent and expenses would eat up half of Mrs. Dawson’s salary. Mrs. Dawson had been our housekeeper for over ten years. She was meticulous, gentle, and had saved my parents a lot of headaches over the decade. My mom didn’t hesitate. She glanced upstairs. “We have plenty of guest rooms on the second floor.” Mrs. Dawson protested, saying it would be an imposition, but my mom just smiled. “It’s fine. Those rooms are just gathering dust anyway.” The next day, Tiffany arrived with her suitcases. My parents, assuming a college student would have a lot of gear, sent our driver, Arthur, to pick her up from the train station. An hour later, I heard voices in the driveway. Arthur was hauling two massive suitcases, sweating through his uniform, while a young girl walked behind him empty-handed, chatting and laughing as if they were old friends. Mrs. Dawson rushed out to meet her, fussing over her as if she’d just returned from a war zone. “Oh, honey! Is it too hot out? Were those bags too heavy for you?” Arthur dropped the bags in the foyer, panting, and wiped his brow. I finally spoke up. “Mrs. Dawson, maybe get Arthur a glass of water?” Tiffany looked up. Her gaze bypassed me entirely, landing straight on my mother sitting in the living room. She beamed, revealing a pair of sweet dimples, and gave a respectful little bow. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Miller. I’m so sorry for the trouble.” My mom smiled and gestured toward the stairs. “Riley, why don’t you and Mrs. Dawson show Tiffany to her room?” We went up to the second floor. Tiffany trailed behind us as Mrs. Dawson gave her the tour. “This is Riley’s room, and that smaller one next to it is her walk-in closet.” “And this little room here… that’s for Riley’s dog.” Tiffany’s eyes widened. “The dog has its own room?” I was sitting on the rug, brushing my Pomeranian. I looked up calmly. “Yes. Bentley is basically my child.” Tiffany asked curiously, “Then, Riley, where will your actual kids stay?” Mrs. Dawson cut her off before I could respond. “Riley isn’t having children. Don’t be nosy about other people’s business, Tiffany.” Aside from my room and Bentley’s, there were three guest rooms. Tiffany peered into the others. “There are clothes in this one. Is someone staying here?” “That’s for my cousin, Parker,” I said. “He stays with us sometimes during his breaks.” I pointed to a smaller room at the end of the hall. “Mrs. Dawson just cleaned that one. It has fresh linens. You’ll be staying there.” Tiffany looked at it, then sighed, rubbing her arm. “Riley, I’ve been having some really bad allergies lately. The doctor said I need as much sunlight as possible. That room looks a bit cold and damp. I’m afraid if my skin gets worse, it might be contagious.” Mrs. Dawson looked at me awkwardly, then at her daughter. “Which room did you have in mind then?” I asked. Tiffany scanned the three rooms and pointed to one. “Could I have that one? The light looks amazing there.” I followed her finger. The room she wanted was the one directly connected to my cousin Parker’s suite. 2 I don’t know what Mrs. Dawson said to my mother, but Mom let Tiffany have the room. Since it was summer break and she had nothing to do, Tiffany spent her days “helping” her mother around the house. Sometimes I’d wake up near noon and go downstairs to see Mrs. Dawson busy in the kitchen while Tiffany sat on the sofa with my mom, watching TV. “Going to the office today, Riley?” Tiffany would jump up to grab my bag the moment I stepped out. I bent down to put on my shoes. “No. I have my own art studio and café to run.” My mom laughed. “Our Riley has no interest in the corporate world. She studied fine arts abroad and loves tinkering with her pastries and coffee now.” Tiffany sighed regretfully. “That’s such a shame. Who’s going to take over the family empire?” My dad walked in from the garden just then. Hearing her, he joked, “With a group this big, if no one in the family wants it, I guess the board of directors will just have to handle it. No heirs in this house!” “Mr. Miller, I’m actually a business major,” Tiffany said enthusiastically. “My professor just started teaching us how to analyze financial statements. Maybe I could help you look over some market trends sometime.” My dad gave her a hearty, encouraging smile. “Not bad! It’s good for young people to keep learning.” He headed to his study, leaving my mom, Mrs. Dawson, and Tiffany in the living room. Mrs. Dawson started sighing, telling my mom that Tiffany was actually a straight-A student, but she had “panic attacks” during her SATs, which is why she ended up at a community college instead of an Ivy League. My mom sipped her tea and comforted her. “It’s alright. She can always transfer or go to a top-tier grad school later.” “Transferring or grad school in the U.S. is so competitive though,” Tiffany said, glancing at me before turning back to my mom. “I’m so jealous of Riley. She doesn’t have to do anything but hang out with friends and go shopping.” “I wish I could have studied abroad too.” 3 I glanced toward the kitchen where Mrs. Dawson was still scrubbing the stove. “Studying abroad isn’t that simple. There’s the funding, the language prep, the applications.” “If I recall, Mrs. Dawson said your tuition was currently covered by student loans?” Tiffany stiffened for a second, then quickly turned to pour more tea for my mom. “Yeah, but I’ll pay those off in a month or two once I graduate. I just don’t want my mom to have to work so hard.” Mrs. Dawson used to always talk about how “sensible” and “brilliant” Tiffany was. My parents, knowing it wasn’t easy for a single mother to raise a daughter, offered more words of comfort, echoing Mrs. Dawson’s praise of Tiffany’s “filial piety.” I thought that was the end of it, but that afternoon, our driver Arthur mentioned something while picking me up. Apparently, Mrs. Dawson had asked my mom for a massive cash advance on her salary to pay off Tiffany’s tuition upfront. Since she’d been with us for ten years and her contract still had six months on it, my mom figured it was fine to give her the money early. “Mrs. Dawson’s had it rough,” Arthur sighed. “No education, but she raised a daughter who made it to college. Good thing the girl is so bright.” “She’s sweet and takes care of her mom. No wonder Mrs. Dawson listens to everything she says.” When I got home, I was carrying several packages. There was a big sale on a luxury pet site, so I’d stocked up on premium treats and organic food for Bentley. I walked into a strangely quiet house. As I sat on the floor to unbox the packages, I heard footsteps on the stairs—Tiffany and Mrs. Dawson were coming down from the second floor. I looked around. Usually, the moment Bentley heard my footsteps, he’d come charging down to greet me. “Buying more stuff, Riley?” Tiffany glanced at the boxes, her tone unreadable. “How much does all that cost? You really treat that dog like a prince.” “Mrs. Dawson, where’s Bentley?” I asked, not looking up from the tape I was cutting. “Oh, he was being a nuisance, so Tiffany suggested we put him on the balcony,” Mrs. Dawson said, pouring herself a glass of water. “He was getting underfoot while I was vacuuming. Back in my hometown, a dog like that would get a good swat to teach him some manners.” “Dogs are naturally low-class. You have to show them who’s boss, or they’ll think they own the place.” “You left him on the balcony all afternoon?” I roared, standing up so fast I knocked over a box. I shoved past them and sprinted upstairs. It was the middle of July. The temperature outside was nearly 100 degrees. Sure enough, I pushed open the glass door to find Bentley huddled in a tiny corner of shade, panting heavily, his body burning to the touch. I scooped him up, rushed downstairs, and ran straight for the bathroom. “Mrs. Dawson! Get me lukewarm water and some ice packs! Now!” Seeing my face, Mrs. Dawson panicked. “Okay! I’m going!” We worked on him for nearly an hour. Finally, Bentley started to revive, his tail giving a weak little wag. Tiffany watched the whole thing, looking bored. “Riley, don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic over a dog?” “Auntie Miller told me you treat this dog like he’s a little god, even more important than your own parents.” “A dog is just a dog. It can’t even talk. Your parents were just saying how quiet and lonely the house feels without any grandchildren.” I slammed a box of dog food onto the floor. The sound echoed like a gunshot. She jumped, staring at me in shock. “This dog cost me five thousand dollars!” I walked toward her, step by step, a cold smile on my face. “I treat him like a god because he’s worth more to me than you are. Even my actual relatives don’t dare touch my private business.” “Who the hell do you think you are?” 4 Tiffany was terrified. Her eyes turned red instantly. Mrs. Dawson rushed to comfort her. “Oh, it’s okay! Riley’s just stressed!” She turned to me, trying to play the mediator. “Riley, Tiffany didn’t know. Don’t take it out on her.” My parents walked in just then, carrying shopping bags. Seeing the standoff, my dad asked, “What’s going on? Why is everyone standing around in the living room?” Mrs. Dawson quickly explained, “Nothing much. Tiffany just put Riley’s dog outside, and he almost got heatstroke.” “Oh?” My mom glanced at Bentley, frowning. “Is he okay?” “He’s not okay! I came home and found him barely breathing!” Before I could finish, Tiffany’s tears started falling in giant drops. “Auntie, is the dog really that expensive?” “I didn’t know. I just saw my mom working so hard to clean, and the dog was making a mess. I was just trying to help.” The moment she said that, Mrs. Dawson doubled down, pleading with my mom: “Tiffany didn’t know the dog was so valuable…” “She was just looking out for me. Who knew Riley had such a temper…” The two of them were a perfect duo—one crying, one apologizing with a long face, making it look like I was the villain bullying them. Mrs. Dawson had been with us for a long time, and my mom was clearly getting a headache from the drama. “From now on, don’t touch anything in this house without permission,” Mom said. She pulled Tiffany aside and said firmly, “Apologize to Riley. You’re new here; it’s natural you don’t know the house rules yet.” It was a graceful exit my mom provided, largely for Mrs. Dawson’s sake. Tiffany hesitated for a long time before mumbling, “I’m sorry…” Mrs. Dawson quickly grabbed my hand and Tiffany’s hand, stacking them together. “Your sister Riley has a good heart. She won’t hold it against you.” “She’s known you since you were a baby, Riley. You two should be like sisters.” I coldly pulled my hand away. Tiffany’s hand was left hanging awkwardly in the air. My mom picked up Bentley. “Well, we’re heading to the lake house tomorrow to escape the heat anyway. We’ll bring Bentley. The fresh air will do him good.” Our family had a vacation home in the Hamptons. We went every year during the peak of summer. “Riley, can you make it this time?” my dad asked. “Didn’t you say the new café opening was coming up?” I took Bentley back and rubbed his head. “I probably can’t. We’re short-staffed.” The new café was in its final stages. My business partner was away on a business trip, so I was the only one available to oversee the site. Usually, when we went to the Hamptons, we took Mrs. Dawson to help with the cooking. Since I was staying behind and had just clashed with Tiffany, Mrs. Dawson said awkwardly, “Maybe… I should take Tiffany with me?” “That way Riley can have some peace and quiet at home.” My mom, knowing my temper, knew that if she left me alone with Tiffany, there’d be another explosion. “Take her along, then.” “But we only have the one guest room available there.” Tiffany immediately gave a sweet smile. “Auntie, I can just share a room with my mom. It’s no problem at all.” 5 After my parents left, the house felt empty. I was buried in the final renovations for the café, coming home and falling straight into bed. It took a few days of living like a zombie before I remembered to check in on them. I scrolled through Instagram. Mrs. Dawson hadn’t posted much, but my mom was active. There were photos of her reading by a floor-to-ceiling window and looking out over the water from the deck. I chuckled to myself. My dad’s photography skills were finally improving. But then I saw a reflection in my mom’s sunglasses—the silhouette of a young girl. I realized then that Tiffany had commented on almost every single one of my mother’s posts. Tiffany had added me on social media a while back, claiming she wanted me to send her some “lifestyle photos” of her mom. We had never actually spoken online, but now her name was all over my mom’s feed. Tiffany: [So beautiful! Who took this amazing shot? Me, of course! Hahaha.] [Auntie, you look so young! I’m so jealous of your skin, ugh!] [Gorgeous! I’m officially your personal photographer now! Uncle Miller is retired!] I felt a strange tightness in my chest. I scrolled through Mrs. Dawson’s feed. There were only a handful of photos, and Tiffany hadn’t even liked them. I decided to text my mom to see when they were coming back. She replied almost instantly. [Next week, honey. Why? Do you want to join us?] [Is it too hot in the city?] I typed back quickly: [Not really.] [It’s just summer break. Parker said he’s coming over in a few weeks to visit you.] Parker was my mom’s favorite nephew. The moment she heard that, her tone shifted. [Oh! Then I’ll come back this weekend.] [Get the guest rooms ready. Have the linens washed and changed.] I thought my mom was joking. But a few days later, I heard the front door open. My mom was back. “Ugh, I forgot how bad the city heat is. It was so much nicer at the lake.” “Riley, you should have come. How have you been? Have you been living off takeout again?” “I brought back some organic wild berries. I’ll have Mrs. Dawson make you a smoothie tonight.” I looked behind them. Someone was missing. “Mrs. Dawson, is your daughter not with you?” Mrs. Dawson was busy organizing bags of organic produce in the kitchen. “No. On the way back, she got a call from some friends. Apparently, there’s a big party tonight.” I didn’t think much of it and went upstairs. But soon, I saw Tiffany’s latest post. She was taking a selfie in my family’s Mercedes, carefully making sure the logo was visible. She was surrounded by a crowd, wearing a designer dress and sunglasses, smiling like a star. The caption read: “The Miller Princess is back in town!” 6 I don’t have many hobbies, but I love clothes. Sometimes I buy things, wear them once or twice, and then get bored. My closet was overflowing. Every season, my mom and I would pack up several bags of clothes to donate to charity. In the last batch, there were a few designer dresses from a high-end French brand. Since I’d been spending all my time at the construction site, I’d been wearing denim shorts and old t-shirts every day. I’d given a bunch of those older “work” clothes to Mrs. Dawson to take to the local donation center. I looked at the dress Tiffany was wearing in her photo. It was one of the designer dresses I’d put in the donation pile. I get the vanity of a young girl. A two-thousand-dollar dress is no small thing. But I never said she could have it. Technically, wasn’t this theft? That evening, I stood by the second-floor window and saw Arthur pull into the driveway. Tiffany stepped out of the backseat with an air of elegance. She and Arthur were chatting as they walked in. She was carrying a stack of gift bags—probably presents from her “friends.” “Mom! What’s for dinner?” Tiffany walked into the kitchen in her heels. “Wow! Roasted chicken! Smells amazing~” I stood on the landing, watching her. She didn’t look like the shy college student who had arrived a few weeks ago in a plain t-shirt and skirt. Now, she was glowing with confidence, draped in designer brands. Last week, she’d claimed her phone was broken and asked if we had any “spare” iPhones lying around. After I said no, she’d pestered her mother until Mrs. Dawson used two months of her salary to buy her the latest model. “Arthur, were you out with Tiffany?” I asked as I walked slowly down the stairs. Arthur looked a bit embarrassed. “No, I just saw her on my way back and gave her a lift.” Tiffany was an expert at networking. She was sweet and knew exactly how to charm my parents. To outsiders, it looked like she had already been integrated into the Miller family. Arthur went to rest for a bit before picking up my dad from the office. Tiffany walked out of the kitchen. She saw me and instinctively smoothed her dress, looking a bit awkward. “Hey, Riley.” To be honest, aside from the incident with Bentley, her little power moves hadn’t really affected me. I was too busy to care. “Mrs. Dawson, I thought I told you to take those clothes to the donation center,” I said with a smile. “If Tiffany needed clothes, you should have told me. I have plenty of old things I could have given her.” Tiffany’s face turned bright red. She turned to her mother, frowning. “Mom, you told me you bought this for me! Why is it Riley’s? You forgot to pay her for it again, didn’t you?” Mrs. Dawson froze, then quickly fumbled for her phone. “Riley, I’m so sorry. I saw this dress and it looked so new, so I took it. How much was it?” I looked at Mrs. Dawson, then at Tiffany. It was obvious Tiffany was throwing her mother under the bus. Judging by Mrs. Dawson’s reaction, they hadn’t discussed this “lie” beforehand. Seeing that, I felt a wave of pity for the woman. Tiffany was Mrs. Dawson’s only pride and joy, which is why she spoiled her so much, giving her everything she asked for. But it was clear that Mrs. Dawson could no longer keep up with Tiffany’s appetite. “The dress was two thousand retail. But since I’ve worn it a few times, just give me five hundred.” Normally, I wouldn’t care about a used dress or five hundred dollars. But I wanted to give Mrs. Dawson a wake-up call after all her years of service. Tiffany had bet that I wouldn’t ask for money from her mother. She never expected me to actually name a price. The mother and daughter were stunned. Mrs. Dawson fumbled with her phone for a long time. “How about… I just take it out of next month’s—” “Mrs. Dawson, you’ve already taken an advance for Tiffany’s tuition,” I said. I smiled, leaving no room for negotiation. “Venmo it to me.” … That night, as I passed the kitchen, I heard them arguing. “Mom! Why can’t you just get on better terms with Riley’s parents? I’m starting my internship soon. You need to have her dad put me in the corporate office!” “Look at how much money you’ve spent these last few weeks! That’s half a year’s salary for me!” “You have to spend money to fit in with people like them! If I don’t wear nice clothes, everyone at the office will look down on me.” “I tried talking to Mrs. Miller about the internship, but she didn’t take the bait. I don’t think they see us as equals,” Mrs. Dawson sighed. Tiffany lowered her voice, speaking rapidly. “Mom! You’ve worked for them for over ten years. You’ve earned this! And I’m a business major. It’s not like I’m asking for a handout. If Mr. Miller mentors me, I’ll be ten times better than Riley.” “She just stays up late painting and making coffee. She only got into that school because you guys paid for it. We’re just as good; we just don’t have the money.” “If I play my cards right with Auntie Miller, maybe she’ll take me in as a god-daughter. Then we’ll finally be set!” “You’re just a small-town woman, Mom. You have no vision. Listening to you is why we’re stuck like this.” I listened to them in silence, feeling only amusement. They saw us as a meal ticket. I’d thought about warning Mrs. Dawson, but seeing this, I realized there was no point. Renovations at the café were done, and I was back to my boring routine. I was actually curious to see what kind of “waves” this college senior thought she could make. Tiffany didn’t disappoint me. She couldn’t sit still for long. 7 After she’d been staying with us for two weeks, my dad suddenly asked during lunch: “So, Tiffany, when does your internship start?” I was casually watching TV, not joining the conversation. Tiffany’s eyes lit up. “I actually found an internship, but I decided not to take it.” My mom looked up. “Why? It’s hard to find good internships these days.” “I know, but the firm expected a lot of overtime. They wanted me staying until 8 or 9 PM every night,” Tiffany sighed. “And even though they said weekends were off, the HR manager mentioned I’d likely be writing reports from home.” “The benefits weren’t great either. Just the bare minimum.” Tiffany grew more animated. “And the pay! It was only three thousand a month. My mom makes more than that as a housekeeper.” My dad chuckled. “So, what kind of job are you looking for?” This was exactly the opening Tiffany wanted. She looked at my mom, sitting up straight and acting poised. “Nothing too crazy. Just a standard 9-to-5 with weekends off and full benefits. I don’t want to be a regular clerk; I want to be on the business management track. Eventually, I want to be in an executive role.” “I’m open to public or private sectors, but if it’s private, I’d prefer a large, stable corporation. I’ve heard international firms have the best perks. Some of my classmates are looking at Fortune 500 companies.” “Since I’m an entry-level intern, I’m not asking for much. Five or six thousand a month would be fine.” My dad glanced at my mom. His voice was neutral as he smiled. “You’ve certainly done your research.” Tiffany smiled back, scooting closer to my mom on the sofa. “I have. Honestly, Mr. Miller, your company sounds perfect.” “I was wondering if I might have the honor of working there.” When she finished, the room went dead silent. My mom took a sip of her tea. I was the one who finally broke the silence with a smile. “Tiffany, our front desk doesn’t have very strict education requirements, but you might not meet the height requirement. We usually look for girls who are at least 5’7″ for reception.” Tiffany stammered, “What… what about an assistant role, Auntie?” “Business management requires a lot of actual experience,” my mom said. She and my dad shared a knowing look. “We don’t hire interns with zero experience for those roles.” Tiffany grew desperate. “Auntie, I’m a fast learner. I can study!” “Learning is one thing, experience is another,” my mom said firmly. “College knowledge is just theory. It’s not enough for the real world.” “You’re young. You should start from the bottom and work your way up.” Tiffany wanted to argue, but the doorbell rang. Someone was here.

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I was the entertainment industry’s widely acknowledged “bimbo,” dragged onto a luxury cruise ship’s live-stream reality show just to fill a spot on the roster. No one expected us to be hit by a terrorist attack midway through the voyage. Clutching a single eyebrow razor, I wiped out an entire squad of heavily armed mercenaries. Facing the live-stream cameras, I blinked innocently: “We’re all red-blooded Americans here.” “It’s perfectly normal to know a little self-defense, right?” 1 On the day of my retirement, my boss asked me with utmost warmth and friendliness: “Harper Vance, you’ve gone through hell and back for the Agency over the years. You’ve done your country a great service.” “If you have any requests for your retirement, just name them.” I immediately perked up, my eyes shining with anticipation: “My retirement life!” “The main theme has to be absolute luxury, glitz and glamour, indulging in the finest wines, partying until dawn, and endless nights of VIP clubbing in LA!” My boss… My boss had excellent manners. He smiled and said: “Understood!” “So basically, you want us to set you up for a fast track to federal prison, right?” Me… Three days later, I was packed up and tossed into Hollywood. Three years later, I had become the internet’s universally acknowledged “bimbo beauty.” But right when everyone was passionately discussing how I was good for absolutely nothing, yet still managed to be an A-lister because God practically force-fed me my career… Who would have thought that I was once the sharpest blade in the Agency? I hold the record for taking out 12 enemies in 3 seconds—a record that remains unbroken to this day. If “The Blade” is the most secretive covert organization in the world, then I was its most dangerous operative. Back then, whenever enemies mentioned me, they would tremble and say: “She spreads faster than a wildfire.” 2 “Carter, don’t go!” I jolted awake from the nightmare again, sitting bolt upright and gasping for air. A malicious voice drifted over from the side: “Oh my, some people really think they can do whatever they want just because they have a pretty face, huh?” “Do you really think Mr. Hayes is someone a bimbo like you can climb the ladder to reach?” “Calling his name in your sleep? Have you no shame!” The person speaking was Chloe Bennett, the entertainment industry’s designated “innocent sweetheart.” Her public image was infinitely better than mine. We were both signed to Apex Entertainment, but we were famously at each other’s throats. The shock from the nightmare left me disoriented for a moment. After catching my breath, I looked around the familiar dressing room, and it finally hit me—Carter was already dead. The man who had fought shoulder-to-shoulder with me was long gone, leaving not even a body behind. It was only then that I processed what Chloe had just said. I frowned and asked: “What Mr. Hayes were you just talking about?” Chloe rolled her eyes: “The most mysterious CEO of the Hayes Conglomerate, Carter Hayes, obviously.” “Just give up!” “I’ve already been invited to the luxury cruise live-stream show in a few days.” “Rumor has it that Mr. Hayes will be gracing us with his presence.” “I am going to make him fall in love with me at first sight!” “As for a brainless vase like you, you don’t even have the qualifications to board the ship!” My mouth twitched as I looked at the overly confident Chloe. I offered a sincere suggestion: “Remember to get some Botox before you board.” “Look at how much your skin is sagging. Be careful, or the flies buzzing around you will get trapped in your wrinkles.” “Also, being pretty really does mean you can do whatever you want~” “But since you aren’t pretty, you wouldn’t understand.” 3 Leaving the dressing room, I frantically dialed my agent’s number: “Tara! That luxury cruise live-stream show in two days—get me on it!” There was a full minute of dead silence on the other end, letting me yell “Hello? Hello?!” into the receiver. Just as my patience was running out, Tara finally spoke: “They invited you before, just to make up the numbers.” “You righteously refused, claiming you’d never sell your soul for five bucks!” I suddenly remembered. Yes, that did happen. At the time, I figured a cruise ship live-stream would mean way too much sun exposure. Only an idiot would go! Plus, the producer in charge of the show clearly thought I didn’t deserve to be there, which was why I turned it down. Guiltily, I cleared my throat and shamelessly sucked up: “So, um… I know you’re mad, but hold on a second!” “How much are they paying?” Tara replied: “They started at five million, then bumped it to six million.” I slammed the imaginary gavel: “While I won’t sell my soul for five bucks, I will absolutely sell it for six million dollars!” “Accept it!” Tara… Carter… Carter Hayes… Even though I knew it was impossible, a tiny sliver of hope still lingered in my heart. Whether it was a coincidence or a miracle, I had to see it with my own eyes. 4 Tara truly was a top-tier agent. Miraculously, at the very last minute, she managed to stuff me into the cast list. As a live reality show backed by massive manpower, resources, and capital, it naturally generated crazy buzz online. On the day of boarding, the hype reached its absolute peak on Twitter: [So excited! It’s finally starting!] [A live stream on a luxury cruise ship! That’s fresh!] [Look! Chloe is about to board!] [Did you guys hear? Rumor has it one of the female stars on this show has an insane background!] [I heard that too. Supposedly backed by a massive conglomerate…] [I bet it’s Chloe!] [Well, it’s definitely not that bimbo Harper Vance.] I hid by the ship’s railing, leisurely scrolling through the live chat. Suddenly, a voice rang out: “I didn’t expect to see you here.” “Agent Seven.” 5 I had already heard the footsteps approaching from behind, so I wasn’t surprised. I said flatly: “Mr. Sterling. I hope you’ve been well.” Winston Sterling was a textbook patriotic billionaire. For decades, he had donated money and resources to charity without hesitation. His motto was: “A strong nation relies on a prosperous economy.” As his business grew into a massive, diversified empire, he became a pivotal figure in the corporate world. Unfortunately, this offended some foreign syndicates. They hired dozens of the world’s best assassins and issued a kill order on him. At the time, I was ordered to protect him. In just half a month, I eliminated every single assassin and kept him alive. He was also the only person in the entertainment industry who knew my true identity after my retirement. Before we could exchange more than a few words, we were interrupted by a sudden rush of people. Chloe was surrounded in the center like a queen bee, flanked by reporters, show staff, bodyguards, and a handful of invited fans. A reporter asked her as they walked: “Regarding the internet rumors that you have an extraordinary background, how do you respond?” “Is it true, as people suspect, that you have a very high status?” Chloe answered without a moment’s hesitation: “Things like that… it’s better to keep a low profile.” “It’s not something to be flaunted in public.” Amid the awe-struck gasps of the crowd, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Chloe was pretty smart. She didn’t clarify or deny it, nor did she answer directly, but she expertly cultivated a “Yep, you guessed it, that’s me” aura. I even suspected she was the one who leaked those rumors online in the first place. After all, no one should have the ability to dig up my background. Maybe my laugh was too loud. Chloe shot me a deadly glare, but unexpectedly spotted Mr. Sterling standing next to me. She sashayed over gracefully, bringing the camera lenses right to us. “Harper, you really are so fake.” “You originally turned down the show’s invitation, but then you heard Mr. Hayes was coming, and you forced your way back in.” “And now, you’re trying to cozy up to Mr. Sterling.” “As celebrities, we need to have a basic bottom line.” Wow! In just a few sentences, she dumped two massive buckets of dirt on my head. As she intended, the live chat went crazy: [Wow, I didn’t know Harper was that kind of person.] [I always knew she was a bimbo, but I didn’t realize she was this manipulative.] Having finished trashing me, Chloe put on a show of sucking up to Mr. Sterling: “Mr. Sterling, I’ve heard so much about you.” “I’ve always wanted to pay you a visit, but never had the chance. It’s been such a regret.” Mr. Sterling’s status was unrivaled in the entire business world. Chloe was calculating perfectly: if she could just exchange a few words with him, her own status would skyrocket. However… Mr. Sterling looked flatly at Chloe’s extended hand. He didn’t shake it publicly as she hoped. Instead, he said coldly: “It’s not a regret.” “Because even if you tried to visit me, I wouldn’t see you.” “Even the CEO of your conglomerate has to make an appointment three months in advance to see me, let alone a nobody like you.” Chloe’s face instantly turned a sickly shade of green. The atmosphere was incredibly awkward. In the dead silence, Mr. Sterling politely gestured toward me: “I wonder if I might have the honor of inviting Miss Vance for a cup of tea?” I raised an eyebrow, nodded, and followed Mr. Sterling to the dining room, leaving everyone staring at each other in shock. The live chat went even crazier: [Can someone explain what just happened?!] [Why is Mr. Sterling so respectful to that bimbo Harper?!] [Chloe is the most embarrassed one here. Got slapped in the face on live TV.] [Hahaha, Mr. Sterling is hilarious!] 6 It was soon time for the evening banquet. This banquet was also the signal that the live stream had officially begun; everyone would be attending. I nervously changed into my evening gown. I was somewhat hoping that Carter Hayes was my Carter, but rationality told me that was impossible. Besides, if Carter was really alive, how could I explain the explosion back then… Suddenly, there was a knock on my door. I asked warily: “Who is it?” Chloe’s voice drifted in: “It’s me. Are you ready?” “Let’s go to the banquet hall together.” Me: ??? Hold on, since when were Chloe and I on such good terms? Why didn’t I know about this? But I didn’t overthink it. I grabbed my things and headed to the banquet hall with her. 7 On the way, Chloe linked her arm affectionately with mine and didn’t let go even when we entered the hall. We sat in adjacent seats, waiting for the event to start. Cameras covered every angle, broadcasting non-stop. Just then, I suddenly felt Chloe’s hand rubbing against my back. I… Was she sexually harassing me? I swiftly grabbed her hand. Looking closely, she was holding a standard eyebrow razor. My mouth twitched. In a split second, I understood what stunt she was trying to pull. She just wanted to slice my dress open so I’d make a fool of myself in public. Before I could say anything, the lights suddenly dimmed. The banquet was starting. At that exact moment, an ominous premonition washed over me. I had faced life-and-death situations countless times. In critical moments, my sixth sense was sharper than anything else. It was God’s way of giving you a real chance to survive. While I was on high alert, observing our surroundings, a scream pierced the air. Immediately after, all the exits slammed shut, and a squad of heavily armed mercenaries suddenly stormed into the banquet hall. Machine guns fired wildly into the ceiling. Screams erupted everywhere, and sheer panic set in. The mercenary leader stepped onto the stage: “Shut the f*ck up, all of you!” “Right now, on this cruise ship, I make the rules!” My brain raced: Where did these people board the ship? Is there an inside man? If they’ve boarded, it’s highly likely the ship has reached international waters. The mercenary leader laughed sinisterly: “This is a live stream, right? I wonder if anyone wants to watch a live ship massacre?” “You celebrities think you’re such hot sh*t, huh?” “From now on, one life is worth ten million dollars.” “Those who can pay, naturally, get to keep their lives.” “Otherwise, I’ll butcher one of you every half hour and throw you into the ocean to feed the sharks!” The live chat was losing its collective mind: [What’s going on? Mercenaries?!] [Is this real or fake?! Call the cops!] [They’re probably in international waters. It’ll take time to get there, plus there are so many hostages!] 8 Chloe was the first to burst into tears, snot and tears smearing her face: “I’ll pay! I’ll pay!” “Don’t kill me!” Chloe’s assistant whispered a reminder: “Chloe, we don’t have that much money!” “At most, we can scrape together five million.” Hearing this, the mercenary leader’s expression darkened: “Are you f*cking playing with me?” “Then we’ll start with you!” He reached out to grab Chloe. She was so terrified she instinctively pointed her only weapon—that ordinary eyebrow razor—at him in a desperate attempt to protect herself. The man laughed mockingly: “Just that?” “Are you kidding me?” “If you can actually hurt me with that little toy, I’ll hand over my title as Warlord of the Seas to you.” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. The man narrowed his eyes and glared at me: “What are you laughing at?!” I crossed my legs, casually swirling the champagne in my glass with one hand: “Don’t turtles usually live in ponds?” “How did you end up in the ocean?” The man instantly flew into a rage: “Looks like someone’s begging to die!” “Fine! I’ll slaughter you first!” In an instant, the dark muzzle of his gun was aimed right at my forehead. The crowd screamed in terror. I ignored it all, stood up, and smoothed out my black silk gown. Then I walked over to Chloe, politely and elegantly holding out my hand: “Can I borrow that eyebrow razor for a second?” 9 Chloe was already paralyzed with fear and instinctively handed the razor to me. The mercenary leader sneered from the side: “Still care about your looks, huh?” “You really are a beauty. If you keep my boys entertained, I might just let you live a few more days.” I shook my head: “Villains always die from talking too much.” Before the words even faded, I struck like lightning. The eyebrow razor slashed across the mercenary leader’s throat in a fraction of a second. Blood sprayed into the air. The man clutched his neck in disbelief, a trembling finger pointing at me. But unfortunately for him, he couldn’t speak anymore. Before the blood droplets even hit the floor, he collapsed with a heavy thud, crashing into a table. The remaining mercenaries finally reacted, raising their rifles and firing a hail of bullets at me. I used the overturned table for slight cover, calculating the positions of everyone in the room and the number of bullets they had left. The enemies emptied their magazines. In that brief split-second window, I silently slipped behind them. I grabbed one of the men in a rear chokehold, using him as a human shield while pushing forward. A few mercenaries tried to surround me. I leaped, landed smoothly, and backhanded the two closest to me, taking them out instantly. The remaining two tried to flank and shoot me from the left and right. But to their surprise, I launched myself upward. The bullets grazed past me and slammed squarely into each other’s bodies. By now, the surviving mercenaries had regrouped. One of them grabbed Chloe, who happened to be the closest: “Drop your weapon!” “Or I’ll butcher her!” I waved the blood-stained eyebrow razor, raised an eyebrow, and laughed aloud: “First of all, is this eyebrow razor the ‘weapon’ you’re referring to?” “How can you be this garbage and call yourselves mercenaries?” “You guys are like cheap crops, each batch worse than the last.” “Secondly, the person you grabbed is my rival.” “I f*cking hate her.” The mercenary panicked. Without thinking, he shoved Chloe to the ground, intending to grab a different hostage. He didn’t know that this was exactly the moment I was waiting for. I hurled the eyebrow razor. It sliced through his carotid artery and kept flying. Moving like a phantom, I was there a split second later to catch it on the other side, dropping into a flawless single-knee landing. But the last remaining enemies had already flanked me from behind. All escape routes were sealed off, and a sharp combat knife lunged toward me. After taking out the enemy in front of me, I instantly sidestepped. The knife barely grazed my gown, slicing the fabric. I crushed the attacker’s throat with one hand. With a sharp snap, he stopped breathing. At that moment, the last three mercenaries suddenly pointed at the tattoo exposed by my torn dress: “She’s Agent Seven!” “Agent Seven from The Blade!” “We can’t win! Run!” I frowned. I never showed my face during missions, but the seven-leaf clover tattoo on my shoulder had once struck fear into the hearts of many. I didn’t expect it to be exposed now. I vaulted forward to block their escape path. Before I could speak, a commotion erupted from outside. The Coast Guard had arrived. The room full of celebrities uniformly maintained one expression: jaw-dropping shock. They were so stunned they couldn’t even answer the police’s questions properly. A young rookie cop surveyed the scene, frowning as he asked: “Who killed these men?” A celebrity pointed a trembling finger at me: “The… the bimbo… I mean! The esteemed Ms. Vance, the superhero.” The rookie cop stepped over the bodies and walked up to me: “Please hand over your weapon so we can log it as evidence.” I nonchalantly tossed the eyebrow razor into the evidence bag. The cop stared at it in confusion: “What is this?” I replied matter-of-factly: “My weapon.” The cop gave me an “Are you kidding me” look and was about to speak when another voice interrupted: “She’s not kidding you.” “That is her weapon.” “Forget a blade. If she wants to, a piece of string or a tree branch is more than enough for her to eliminate an enemy.” I turned to look at the speaker. It seemed to be their SWAT team commander. I tilted my head in confusion: I don’t think I know him?

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My billionaire boss gave my executive position to his “darling” trophy wife. So, I checked out. Business plans? Not writing them! High-profile clients? Not meeting them! Million-dollar projects? Not touching them! Then, the funding vanished, the clients jumped ship, and the company teetered on the brink of bankruptcy. The “Alpha CEO” came crawling back, begging me to clean up the mess. I didn’t. Instead, I took the core team, built my own empire, and watched my name climb the Forbes list while his crashed into the dirt. 1 For the past year, I had crushed every KPI and passed every internal audit to secure the position of Marketing Director. But on my first day in the new role, my boss, Arthur Thorne, walked in with a stranger. “This is Tiffany Sterling. Starting today, she’s your new colleague.” She looked barely twenty, stunningly beautiful, and clung to Arthur’s arm like a delicate vine. Arthur scanned the morning meeting before his gaze landed on me. “Sloane Bennett, I expect you to assist Tiffany in everything she does.” The room went silent. Since when does a Director “assist” a new hire? Gossip spread like wildfire. Human Resources later slipped me her file with a sympathetic look. “She’s the boss’s new girl. To make her believe she got the job on merit, Arthur had three Ivy League MBAs interview as ‘decoys’ just to let her win. She’s a princess, Sloane. Good luck.” I flipped through her resume. Vocational school dropout. Worked as a cashier, a manicurist, and a bottle girl at a nightclub. Quite the “all-rounder.” Unfortunately, my team consisted of Stanford grads and former McKinsey consultants. Arthur was clearly trying to play out a “Cinderella and the Billionaire” fantasy. Having a “diversity hire” for the CEO’s ego is one thing—most people would just roll their eyes and move on. But I didn’t realize how much crazier it was about to get. 2 After the meeting, Arthur called me into his office. The door hadn’t even fully closed before I saw Tiffany sitting on his lap, giggling. I cleared my throat. “Mr. Thorne, you wanted to see me?” He didn’t look embarrassed. He gestured to a chair. “Sloane, I want you to hand over the Marketing Director position to Tiffany.” I froze. “Excuse me?” Setting aside her lack of a degree or experience, she had been at the company for exactly ten minutes. Executive appointments required Board approval. What was Arthur thinking? I looked at Tiffany, who was pouting perfectly. I kept my voice flat. “Then what is my role?” Arthur took a slow drag of his cigar, his voice dripping with that classic “Alpha CEO” arrogance. “Given your history with the firm, we aren’t letting you go. You’ll be Tiffany’s deputy. You’ll handle the work; she’ll handle the title.” I almost laughed. “Mr. Thorne, if you want to play house, give her a desk in the corner. Don’t swap out the leadership of your most critical department.” Tiffany’s eyes welled up instantly. “Sloane, don’t blame Arthur. I told him I wanted to ‘challenge myself’ in Marketing. I promise I’ll work hard.” Arthur looked at her with pure adoration, then turned back to me, his voice cold. “Tiffany is independent. She doesn’t want to rely on me; she wants to build something herself. That’s why I made this choice.” “If she wants to build something, why isn’t she starting as an intern?” I snapped. She whimpered, tucking her head into Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur’s brow furrowed. “She has no background. If I don’t give her authority, people will bully her. She’s my woman, Sloane. I won’t let her suffer a single grievance.” He tossed a transfer of authority form onto the desk. “Three minutes. Sign it.” I sneered. “I hope you don’t regret this.” Since Arthur’s mother stepped down as Chairperson three years ago, the company hadn’t innovated once. Our products were being slaughtered by competitors. The only reason we still had orders was because of the personal relationships I had cultivated over years of grinding. I was already exhausted from carrying his dead weight. If he wanted to hand the steering wheel to a toddler, fine by me. As I walked out, I heard Tiffany’s soft voice: “Arthur, is this okay? Is Sloane going to be mad?” And Arthur’s oily response: “Who cares about her? If she tries to make things hard for you, I’ll make her regret ever being born.” … Arthur and Tiffany vanished for three days. According to HR, Arthur bought her a $5 million luxury ranch in Montana as a “get-to-work” gift. I suddenly remembered that my $2 million year-end bonus—and the bonuses for my entire team—hadn’t been paid yet. When I had asked Finance, they told me “cash flow was tight” and payments were delayed. Now I knew where the cash went. It wasn’t tight. It was spent on a stable for a girl who couldn’t spell “Marketing.” I sat in my office all afternoon, drinking tea and reading the news. Arthur Thorne was a lost cause. But one way or another, I was going to get my team’s blood and sweat back from him. 3 On Friday night, I left the office early. I had a steak dinner, went home, took a long bath, and relaxed with my cat. It was the first peaceful night I’d had in four years. I was enjoying my “quiet quitting” when my phone started vibrating like a grenade. The company-wide Slack channel had a new announcement: “Mr. Thorne and Director Sterling invite everyone to their Montana ranch this weekend to celebrate their ‘Journey of Love.’” My team’s private group chat exploded. “I’ve worked eighty hours this week. I just want to sleep. Help me.” “I have a dentist appointment I’ve waited months for. Now this?” “It’s my daughter’s birthday tomorrow. I promised her Legoland!” I looked at the messages, imagining their frustrated faces. In corporate America, “mandatory fun” on weekends is the ultimate sin. And this wasn’t even team building. It was Arthur forcing his employees to be the audience for his cringe-inducing romance. The kicker? The ranch was a five-hour drive away. No company shuttle. Oh, and we were expected to bring our own “rustic gear” and gifts for the “happy couple.” I sent a single emoji to my team: They understood immediately. Monday morning, Arthur and Tiffany stormed into my office. “Sloane Bennett, you encouraged a mass walk-out. Explain yourself,” he roared, his voice echoing through the floor. I looked up calmly. “What are you talking about, Arthur? The attendance records for the Marketing department show no absences during business hours.” His face darkened. “The ranch invite. You didn’t show.” I acted surprised. “Oh, that? I only saw the notification this morning. Besides, that was a weekend. Since when is not attending a private party ‘absenteeism’?” He started to yell, but I cut him off. “According to the Fair Labor Standards Act and our specific state labor laws, mandatory attendance at a non-work event qualifies as compensable time. My team has already exceeded their overtime cap this month. Do you want me to file a formal report with the Department of Labor to verify the hours?” I forgot. Billionaire playboys usually think they’re above the law. He stared at me with those “Alpha” eyes—the ones that are supposed to make women swoon but just made me want to check my watch. “Sloane, do not test my patience.” That’s when Tiffany played her “Sweetheart” card. She tugged on his sleeve. “It’s okay, Arthur. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have expected everyone to be as happy as we are.” Then she turned to me with fake tears. “Sloane, no matter what you think of me, Arthur and I really wanted to host you. We just wanted everyone to feel like family.” Sure. “Family.” You ate Wagyu beef and lobster in a glass-walled dining room while you expected the staff to set up their own tents in the rain and grill cheap burgers. Even worse, Tiffany had suggested that the employees should spend their weekends “tilling the land” on the ranch to “experience the beauty of nature.” She was a classic Hallmark-movie heroine with the brain of a goldfish. Her “stoking the fire” act was clearly designed to get me fired. But Arthur wasn’t quite that stupid. He knew he couldn’t lose my client list yet. His assistant, Mr. Vance, whispered something in his ear. Arthur’s face relaxed slightly. “Fine. This time I’ll let it slide. But don’t push me again.” They left. Mr. Vance stayed behind for a second, sighing. “Ms. Bennett, you have to understand. The boss hasn’t smiled like this in ten years. Tiffany makes him happy. Just… try to be a team player.” I stared at him. “Ten years? Are you sure he doesn’t have a neurological condition? Have you taken him to a doctor?” Mr. Vance turned red, sputtered, and walked out. 4 On Tiffany’s first real day of work, she had to attend the weekly product briefing. The slide deck was all in complex technical English and data analytics. I watched her eyes glaze over. She looked at our Product Manager, Jessica, with a trembling lip. “Why is this all in jargon and data? This isn’t very ‘human-centric.’” Jessica blinked. “Tiffany, we are a global tech firm. These are the metrics our European and Asian partners require. It’s the basis of our business.” Tiffany’s face flushed. “Well, if they want our products, they should learn to adapt to us. This feels very elitist. We should be focusing on the ‘vibe’ of the brand.” Jessica was speechless. I leaned back. “Director Sterling is right. Who needs data when you have a ‘vibe’? Of course, every single person in this room understands the data. Except, apparently, the Director.” Tiffany looked like she was going to cry. At the end of the meeting, Jessica smiled tightly. “Director, we’ll need your quarterly market strategy by EOD tomorrow so we can align our production.” Tiffany sat in her office for eight hours. She didn’t write a single word. I saw the look of a digital illiterate facing a spreadsheet. Mr. Vance brought her templates from previous quarters, telling her to just “fill in the blanks.” She didn’t even know how to use PowerPoint. She couldn’t even convert a CSV into a bar chart. It was beyond pathetic. I finished my coffee, stretched, and watched the sunset. Another day of doing absolutely nothing. … After two days of this, Tiffany broke. That evening, Arthur came to pick her up. She immediately began frantically shuffling papers, looking “exhausted” and “diligent.” Arthur walked to her desk. “Who’s my hardworking little kitten?” She threw herself into his arms. “Oh, Arthur!” It was so greasy I felt like I needed a shower. I packed my bag to leave. “Arthur, I’m so sorry, I can’t have dinner with you tonight. I haven’t finished the report,” she whimpered. “You know I had to drop out of school to help my sick mother. I’m just… I’m trying so hard to keep up, but I don’t want to be a burden to you.” Arthur held her tight. “It’s okay. You shouldn’t have to do this anyway. I’ll have someone else do it for you.” Her eyes lit up, but she feigned hesitation. “But it’s so late…” Arthur pinched her nose. “You just focus on being beautiful. I’ll handle the rest.” He called out to me as I reached the door. “Sloane Bennett. Finish Tiffany’s report tonight. I want it on my desk by 8 AM.” I smiled. “I’m sorry, Arthur. It’s 6:01 PM. My shift is over. Furthermore, the employee handbook states clear role boundaries. This is the Director’s responsibility. I have no authority to touch her files.” He looked at me as if I were speaking a foreign language. “This is a growth opportunity for you. You should be grateful.” The classic corporate gaslighting. I looked at Tiffany and smiled politely. “Arthur, the one who needs the ‘opportunity’ is Tiffany. A Director who can’t use a computer is a rare specimen in this century. Maybe you should enroll her in a community college night class?” Then, I walked out. The main characters in these billionaire stories really have a screw loose. I knew exactly what world I was in. I was a side character in a trashy romance novel titled The CEO’s Darling Little Wife. Tiffany was the heroine. Innocent, beautiful, and “persecuted” by the cold corporate world. In the original plot, I was the “Jealous Female Executive” who tried to make her life a living hell. My ending? Arthur was supposed to fire me, blackball me from the industry, and leave me to be harassed by thugs until I died in poverty. And Tiffany, of course, would know “nothing” about it. She’d just wonder why her “mean” colleague disappeared. But why would I play that role? I worked for four years, becoming the top producer in the company, just for him to hand my job to a girl who thinks a “market strategy” is a mood board on Pinterest? He spent our team’s bonuses on a ranch for her ego. He didn’t care about the single moms on my team or the grads struggling with student loans. So, as a self-aware side character, “quiet quitting” was the only logical move. 5 Slacking off was addictive. After a week of me doing the bare minimum, Arthur finally snapped. “I told you to assist Tiffany!” he barked, hovering over my desk. I shrugged. “I am. I’m doing my job as a Deputy. Her job is… her job.” He scowled. “What will it take for you to actually help her?” “Simple,” I said, not looking up. “Pay the Marketing department our bonuses.” “The company has no liquidity right now! You know that!” Right. Plenty of cash for Montana ranches, none for the people actually making the money. “Then I guess I have no liquidity of effort,” I said, standing up to leave. As I reached the door, he grunted. “Fine. I’ll release half the bonus pool.” … Back at the department, Jessica came over. “Are you really going to help her?” I laughed. “A strategy costs $500k. A report is $400k. Minor tasks start at $50k. Once the money hits the accounts, we’ll talk.” A week later, I received a $1 million payment. My team got their overdue bonuses too. Everyone was thrilled. They invited me out for a celebratory dinner. I agreed, but as we were leaving the building, Tiffany and Arthur intercepted us. “We heard there’s a team dinner! We’re coming too,” Tiffany chirped, clinging to Arthur’s arm. My team and I exchanged looks of pure dread. At the steakhouse, the server handed out menus. “I’ll have the Ribeye, well-done, with peppercorn sauce,” I ordered. Tiffany giggled. “Sloane, you clearly haven’t been to high-end places often. You never order a steak well-done. Medium-rare is the only way.” She lifted her chin, looking triumphant. She looked at Arthur for backup. “Arthur takes me to the best places in the city. He taught me all about it.” I remembered Arthur’s Instagram post from a month ago, bragging about how he met a “pure, unpretentious girl” who took him to eat street food. I guess after three weeks of dating a billionaire, she’d already forgotten her “unpretentious” roots. I kept looking at the menu. “In Europe and high-end culinary circles, ‘Well-Done’ is considered a test of the meat’s quality and the chef’s skill. Low-end restaurants discourage it because they use cheap cuts that turn to leather. A top-tier chef can make a well-done steak succulent. If a restaurant tells you they can’t do it, it’s because they aren’t good enough.” I looked at the server. He caught my eye immediately. “Absolutely, ma’am. Our head chef is classically trained. We can accommodate any temperature perfectly.” I smiled at Tiffany. She looked humiliated, her eyes filling with tears. “Sloane, I know I’m just a commoner and I haven’t traveled the world like you, but you don’t have to be so mean about it.” Wow. The “victim” flip. Arthur glared at me. “Enough. It’s just a steak. Stop being a bully.” My team and I looked at each other. There was no saving this man’s brain. I laughed softly. “First, I’m not arguing. Second, Arthur, you should tell your girlfriend that ‘well-done’ isn’t a crime. And finally, eating at a steakhouse isn’t a status symbol. It’s just dinner. Only someone deeply insecure would think a steak temperature is an insult to their soul.” The food arrived, and the atmosphere was awkward for exactly two people: the brooding CEO and his pouting girlfriend. The rest of us had a great time. When the bill came, Arthur and Tiffany had already slipped out. They left a $2,500 tab. A junior staffer asked if we should cover it. I smiled at the server. “We were just sharing the table with those two. This is a separate bill. For the two who left without paying, you can check your CCTV and their parking validation. I’m sure the Thorne Group would hate to be reported for dine-and-dash.” My team muffled their laughter. Jessica gave me a thumbs-up. “Cold, Sloane. Stone cold.” I walked home under the moonlight, feeling great. But as I approached my building, I realized someone was following me. A shadow stayed exactly fifty feet behind me. I picked up my pace, stayed under the streetlights, and ducked into my building’s lobby. With the 24-hour security and keycard access, I was safe.

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My sister-in-law is a strict vegan. She insisted on raising her baby exclusively on a plant-based diet. She even planned to replace my nephew’s baby formula with soy milk. As a pediatrician, I strongly advised her to ensure a balanced diet with both meat and vegetables, advocating for science-based parenting. In the end, my nephew grew up healthy and strong. But whenever he faced any difficulties in life, my sister-in-law would tell him: “You were supposed to be a pure vegan baby from the womb, blessed with good karma. It was your aunt who ruined your vegan blessings.” Because of this, he resented me for years, and one night while I was fast asleep, he smothered me to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my sister-in-law asked for my advice. This time, I smiled and said: “You’re the mom, you have the final say.” 1 I was reborn on the day of my nephew’s one-month celebration. My sister-in-law, Chloe, was holding the baby, bragging to a table full of relatives about her “pure vegan from the womb” baby. She proudly declared that she had stuck to a strict vegan diet for two years. Even during her pregnancy, she hadn’t touched a single egg or drop of dairy. She proclaimed that the baby would also be raised exclusively vegan—no formula, only soy milk. The relatives thought it was absurd. They chimed in, urging her that growing children need proper nutrition and asking how he could possibly survive without formula. What if it affected his development? Chloe brushed them off, unimpressed. “You guys just don’t get it. Babies who are vegan from the womb are blessed. They’re bound to be much smarter than ordinary kids!” “Isn’t that right, Aria? You’re a doctor. Why don’t you tell them? Isn’t a vegan diet better?” As she spoke, she turned her gaze toward me. I drifted off for a second, then the memories came flooding back. In my past life, she had asked me the exact same question in front of everyone. Back then, driven by professional integrity, I told her the truth. In the pediatric ward, I had treated countless children suffering from malnutrition. I had seen those “pure vegan from the womb” babies that were so trendy in extreme vegan circles. Most of them were shorter, more lethargic, and had weaker immune systems than their peers. Children need a variety of trace elements for growth, many of which simply cannot be provided by a pure vegan diet. A balanced diet of meat and vegetables is essential, and parenting must be grounded in science. Chloe’s face fell, and she stayed silent. Eventually, persuaded by the elders, my brother finally decided against forcing the child to be vegan from birth. My little nephew grew up safe and healthy. But what I didn’t expect was that from then on, every hardship he faced in life would be blamed on me by his mother. If he hit a roadblock in his studies or had a fight with a classmate… Chloe would tell him, “You were supposed to be a pure vegan baby from the womb, blessed with heavenly karma to succeed in everything. But your aunt ruined your blessings.” This led to him resenting me from a very young age. Finally, during one of my visits home, he slipped sleeping pills into my milk and smothered me with a pillow in my room. The security camera in the living room caught a glimpse of it. When Chloe discovered it, her first action was to have my brother delete the footage. Then, they told everyone I died of a sudden heart attack. My mother cried until she lost her voice at my funeral, but after all the guests had left… She held my portrait and whispered, “Aria, I’m sorry. Mom has already lost a daughter; I can’t lose my grandson too.” She knew everything, but she chose silence. These were the family members I had treated with genuine love. Thinking back to this, I looked at Chloe’s eager eyes and offered a mild smile. “There’s no parent who doesn’t want the best for their child. How to raise him is, of course, up to the mother.” She was extremely satisfied with my answer. “See? Even the doctor agrees! What more is there to question!” Yes, this time, I wanted to see just how much “good karma” your pure vegan baby could muster. 2 After the banquet, my mom pulled me aside on the sofa. “Aria, you know we live out of state and it’s not convenient. We’re counting on you for the baby’s formula and things like that from now on.” In my past life, whenever it was time for formula or baby food, they made me buy it. Their excuse was, “Since you’re the one advocating for science-based parenting, naturally, you should be responsible for it.” During that time, my money flowed out like water. When I tried to settle the expenses with my brother and sister-in-law, my mom would intervene, “We’re all family, why are you keeping such strict accounts?” So, more than half of the expenses of raising their child were siphoned from me. But this time, I wasn’t going to be their cash cow. “Mom, Chloe said she’s doing a pure vegan diet. Which formula on the market is vegan?” Her smile froze. She glanced at Chloe, too afraid to offend her daughter-in-law. “Then… what should we do?” What should you do? Feed him soy milk, of course. I took her hand and smiled warmly, trying to comfort her. “Oh, come on, Chloe knows how to raise her child. You just relax and stop worrying.” She looked embarrassed and had to let it go. Then, she watched helplessly as Chloe ordered a massive sack of soybeans online and commanded her to make soy milk every single day. 3 Two months later, in the dead of night, I received a phone call from my hometown. It was my brother, Mark. “Aria, Noah has a high fever that won’t break! Hurry back and take him to the hospital!” Noah was my nephew’s name. It was the same in my past life. Whenever he had a slight headache or fever, my brother and sister-in-law’s first instinct was to call me. They wouldn’t even go to the hospital themselves; they just dumped the responsibility entirely. And I, brainwashed by my mother’s “we’re all family” rhetoric, would take charge of everything. But now, looking at the fact that my shift was over, I leisurely took off my white coat and stretched. “I can’t, Mark. I’m on call and have patients to see. I can’t leave!” The voice on the other end grew frantic: “What patients? Do you not understand prioritization? Who could be more important than your own nephew?” I smiled faintly. “Mark, don’t worry. Didn’t Chloe say that vegan babies are blessed and have stronger immune systems than normal babies? I figured he wouldn’t get sick, so I didn’t make any preparations.” Mark was furious and started yelling at me. Then, he turned his anger on Chloe: “Didn’t you say a vegan diet makes him healthier? Why is he sick?!” Chloe refused to back down: “It’s just a minor illness. It’s no big deal if we don’t go to the hospital. This child has good karma; he’ll be fine.” An argument erupted on the other end of the line. The sound of things breaking and doors slamming echoed back and forth. By the time they finished their commotion and took the baby to the clinic, his temperature had spiked to 106 degrees. 4 However, no one died. Small clinics are best at routine fever reduction. A few bottles of antibiotics, and the effect is immediate. In contrast, major hospitals have strict regulations on IV fluids and prohibit the abuse of antibiotics, so fever reduction isn’t as fast. In my past life, I was even subjected to Chloe’s passive-aggressive remarks because of this. “Big hospitals just know how to make money. A simple IV could solve it, but they always want to admit you!” But she didn’t know that the dependency caused by long-term antibiotic use is a disaster for a child’s immune system. This time, I wouldn’t interfere. Let him get as many IVs as she wished. A child’s destiny is inherently proportional to their parents’ understanding. There is absolutely no need to force a change. 5 The day after the IV, Noah’s temperature returned to normal. Chloe was thrilled, increasingly convinced this was the result of his vegan diet. She immediately posted an update on social media. [Other babies take ten days in the hospital for a cold and still aren’t better. My vegan baby’s fever broke in one night!] She declared that not only would she stick to the vegan diet even more resolutely, but she would also promote the benefits of being vegan from the womb to more pregnant friends. And in the comments section, her circle of friends were all uniformly saying: [Rejoice and praise, boundless merit.] I swiped past casually and calmly turned off the screen. Let her continue wasting her time like this. 6 Time flew by. When I saw Noah again, he was already seven years old. He looked vastly different from my impression of him in my past life. His complexion was sallow, his hair dull and dry, and he was a full two or three inches shorter than kids his age. He stood blankly in the corner, unwilling to communicate with anyone. But Chloe remained as proud as ever. Over these years, under her strict training, no one in the family dared let Noah have a single bite of meat. Even on his birthday, when my mom added a tiny bit of lard to his longevity noodles, Chloe scolded her mercilessly. She was very proud of this, bragging to everyone she met: “Our Noah is just like me. He wants to throw up at the smell of meat.” I pursed my lips and stayed silent. Why do extreme vegans always take pride in being unable to stand the smell of meat? That’s a sign of liver damage. 7 After dinner, my mom held my hand, her eyes eager. “Aria, this is your only nephew. You can’t ignore his elementary school enrollment.” They wanted me to pull some strings to get Noah into the prestigious private Oakridge Elementary. In my past life, with my tutoring, he successfully got into that school. Because it was close to my workplace, he lived with me after starting school. I was responsible for his food, clothing, and daily expenses. I took care of him for nine whole years, until he got into a top high school and secured a guaranteed admission to a prestigious university. And on the day the family threw a celebratory banquet for him, he murdered me with his own hands. Before I died, I heard him say: “If it weren’t for you meddling and taking me away from my parents, I wouldn’t have suffered so much for so many years. “If I had just followed my mom’s vegan diet from a young age, studying wouldn’t have been so hard!” It turned out that my pouring my heart out to provide him with educational resources his original family lacked was, in his eyes, “suffering.” All the money spent on him over those years didn’t earn a single word of gratitude, only accumulated endless resentment. In nine years, I had successfully raised an ungrateful monster. Thinking of this, I spoke calmly: “Mom, it’s just an entrance exam. “With the intelligence of a baby who’s been vegan from the womb, he’ll definitely ace it. Right, Chloe?” As I spoke, I looked at Chloe. She raised her eyebrows proudly: “Of course. An exam like this is a piece of cake for my son.” I smiled. I also wanted to know what score he would get in this life. 8 On the day the exam results were announced, Chloe scrolled on her phone for ages but couldn’t find her son’s name. It wasn’t until she scrolled to the very end of the dense Excel spreadsheet that she finally saw the name “Noah Thorne.” Reading: 52, Math: 34, English: 41. The maximum score was 100. She exclaimed it was impossible. “The school must have made a mistake. How could my son score so low?” 她 paced around the living room, muttering to herself for a long time. I almost wanted to laugh. The multiple elements needed for a child’s brain development cannot be provided by a pure vegan diet. For example, DHA, which affects intelligence, can only be obtained from fish. Being a vegan since childhood, it would be a miracle if his IQ were normal. But Chloe clearly lacked this knowledge base. After muttering for a long time, she turned to me again: “Aria, go talk to the school leadership. Ask them to check if there was a mistake. Otherwise, someone must be cheating!” I was instantly speechless. So the over 300 students ahead of him were all cheating? My mom glanced at Chloe in dissatisfaction but didn’t dare say anything. She could only look to me for help: “Aria, you’re the most successful one in our family. You have to figure something out for your nephew.” Mark chimed in: “Yeah, why don’t you go buy a gift for the principal and ask for a favor? One more student won’t hurt.” If gifts could secure admission, wouldn’t the parents of the other 300-plus students be doing the same? If it’s so easy to use the back door, why doesn’t he do it himself? This brother of mine is always so unrealistic. 9 I sighed, looking troubled: “It’s not that I won’t help Noah. Chloe said vegan babies are the smartest and exams are no problem. I didn’t prepare anything. Now that admissions are closed, it’s too late to ask for favors.” Hearing this, Mark’s face darkened, and he pointed at Chloe, starting to complain: “Didn’t you say that as long as he ate vegan, exams wouldn’t be an issue? What happened now?” Chloe rolled her eyes, put her hands on her hips, and started scolding: “Why are you blaming me? It’s definitely the school’s problem. Don’t I know my own son? He’s always been the brightest. “If you ask me, these private schools just give tricky and weird questions to make things difficult for people. It’s better not to go!” The two started cursing and arguing again. I slowly stepped forward to mediate: “Chloe is right. True gold shines everywhere. As long as the child is smart, it doesn’t matter what school he goes to.” This farce ended with their argument. And Noah in this life would never have the chance to enter Oakridge Elementary. He could only stay locally and attend the most ordinary school. High-quality educational resources were forever out of his reach.

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