Author: Momo Chan

Five years. When they finally pulled me out of that nightmarish compound deep in the Montana backcountry, the welcome I received wasn’t the warm, tearful embrace I had hallucinated during all those endless, agonizing nights. Instead, Bennett—my older brother, the untouchable Seattle tech billionaire who raised me—sat across from me in a sterile, modern living room and calmly explained that he had funded my kidnapping. Declan, my husband, the man whose eyes used to soften only for me, stood by the fireplace. With a casual flick of his wrist, he admitted that he was the one who arranged the men who took me. He had even been parked in an alley down the street, watching as I was dragged, kicking and screaming, into the back of an unmarked van. They told me the original plan was just to leave me in the wilderness for three years. A time-out. A lesson. But it was Jude—the street kid I had brought home and practically raised as my own brother—who insisted they leave me there for two more. Jude had been worried I hadn’t “learned my place” yet. He was terrified I might come back and be mean to Camilla. For five years, I rotted in that rural hell. Every night was a symphony of unimaginable degradation. My belly swelled with a forced pregnancy six different times. Six times, through violence or malnutrition, it flattened again. I tried to die more times than I could count, but the universe wouldn’t grant me the mercy. I tried to run, clawing through the dirt and snow, until they shattered both my legs with a steel pipe, leaving me with cheap, agonizingly stiff prosthetics that ground my stumps into bloody pulp. I had fought like a dying animal just to survive, purely on the hope of seeing my family again. I thought they were my salvation. I never dreamed they were the architects of my descent into hell. The blood in my veins felt like freezing sludge. I couldn’t stop shaking. “Why?” I rasped, my vocal cords permanently damaged from years of screaming. “Why would you destroy me like this?” Bennett and Jude exchanged a look, suddenly unable to meet my eyes. It was Declan who broke the silence. He stepped forward, his perfectly tailored suit a stark contrast to my filthy, oversized clothes. He told me it was because I had abused their love. Because I had bullied Camilla. They just wanted me to “grow up a little.” Then, without missing a beat, he added that Camilla was pregnant with his child. If I couldn’t accept that, he said smoothly, we could arrange a quiet divorce. A thick, metallic taste of blood rose in the back of my throat. And right in that moment, a crystalline, mechanical voice chimed in my mind—a sound I hadn’t heard in years. [Host, do you wish to abandon the redemption arc of these three antagonists and detach from this world?] … 1 The Voice. The Guide I had made a pact with so many years ago. Its sudden return sent a dizzying wave of vertigo crashing through me. I stared at Declan’s deadpan, aristocratic face, then shifted my gaze to Bennett and Jude, who were softly instructing a housekeeper to prepare a delicate broth for Camilla. A phantom knife twisted in my chest. Five years ago, they called me in a panic, claiming they had been in a horrible car crash on the way to my birthday dinner. My heart had nearly seized in my chest. I had rushed out in the rain, taking a shortcut through the alley to get to them faster. That was where the van was waiting. That was where my life ended. I had held onto the fairy tale of their rescue for so long. Now, they were telling me my crucifixion was just a favor to Camilla. Leave, I answered The Voice in my mind. [Understood. Eight-hour countdown initiated. Due to the sudden departure, the Host must ensure all three antagonists are present at the moment of detachment.] I let out a sound that was half-sob, half-laugh. Declan walked over, raising a thumb to wipe a tear from my hollow cheek. His voice took on that soft, coaxing tone I used to melt for. “Josie, you don’t have to divorce me if you don’t want to,” he murmured. “It’s just that Camilla is delicate. We’ve spent years protecting her. You can’t put your hands on her anymore. Since your body is… ruined, and you can’t have kids, Camilla graciously offered to let us put her baby under your name.” I used to have Declan’s baby inside me. I was seven months along. Camilla had smiled, leaned in, and shoved me backward down a sweeping marble staircase. I lost the baby. When I woke up from the surgery, half out of my mind with grief, I hunted Camilla down. I managed to slap her across the face exactly once before Declan tackled me. He locked me in our bedroom for a month. Once my postpartum bleeding stopped, the van came for me. My throat felt tight, lined with shattered glass. “Because I slapped Camilla once. Because of one slap, you did this to me?” “Yes,” Declan said, his face hardening, completely unashamed. “You were careless. You lost our child, and then you had the audacity to blame Camilla. You acted like a hysterical animal, not my wife. As long as you behave from now on, I promise I won’t send you away again.” My face felt numb. The tears on my cheeks turned ice-cold. “If you went through the trouble of lying to me about the car crash,” I whispered, “why tell me the truth now?” Bennett let out a long, disappointed sigh. Jude looked at me with cold righteousness. “Because at the end of the day, you and Camilla are sisters,” Jude said evenly. “We needed you to remember this lesson. So that moving forward, you’ll protect her, just like we do.” Protect her? Something inside me finally snapped. I grabbed the heavy porcelain teapot from the coffee table and hurled it at the hardwood floor. It shattered with a violent, satisfying crash. I shoved the sleeves of my oversized sweater up to my shoulders, exposing the horrific tapestry of cigarette burns, knife marks, and jagged scars that covered my arms. I screamed, my voice breaking into a ragged sob. “I was tortured day and night by the monsters you paid! They took my babies! They took my legs—!” “Enough!” Declan barked, his lip curling in sheer disgust. “The makeup is very realistic, Josie, I’ll give you that. But clearly, you haven’t learned a damn thing.” Bennett and Jude looked at me like I was a piece of trash that had blown onto their pristine lawn. Declan grabbed me roughly by the wounded arm, dragging my frail body across the hall, and shoved me into a dark utility closet. “When Camilla gets back, if you still don’t know how to kneel and apologize, I will drive you back to Montana myself,” he spat. The door slammed shut. The lock clicked. The dark, enclosed space triggered an immediate, suffocating flashback. The phantom weight of a rusty iron chain wrapped around my neck. The smell of stale beer and sweat. I slammed my fists against the door, my voice entirely gone, reduced to a pathetic, guttural wheeze. “I’ll sign the papers! I want a divorce! Please, don’t send me back to the dark!” 2 I don’t know how long I pounded on the wood. I didn’t stop until the old scabs on my palms tore open, smearing blood on the white paint. Finally, the door swung open. I collapsed forward. My hair was matted to my face, my eyes swollen to slits. Bennett looked down at me. For a fraction of a second, something like panic flickered in his eyes, but he quickly forced it away, replacing it with a mask of weary contempt. “You’ve been back for two hours and you’re already throwing a tantrum. Can you just be normal for five minutes?” He shoved my shoulder. At barely eighty pounds, with a center of gravity thrown off by my cheap prosthetics, I crashed hard into the doorframe. Bennett froze, his hand hovering in the air. Then he scoffed, his lips pulling into a cruel smirk. “Still playing the victim? Think that’s going to make me carry you out of here?” Even after seeing the monster he had become, my heart still gave a pathetic little flutter of agony. The old Bennett would never have spoken to me like this. When my soul was first dropped into this universe, I was born as his little sister. Our mother died in childbirth. Bennett raised me single-handedly. He used to lay the world at my feet. When The Guide first told me my mission was to redeem three potential “villains” to keep this universe from collapsing, I poured every ounce of my love into them. I loved Declan until his cold heart melted. I found Jude shivering in an alleyway and brought him home. Bennett never scolded me for bringing them into our lives; he explicitly told them that I was the center of their universe, and they had to protect me. All of Seattle knew you could cross Bennett Mercer, but if you made Josie cry, you were a dead man walking. In my original life, I was a foster kid. I had never been loved. So, once my mission was officially marked complete and their dark fates were averted, I made the choice to stay in this world. I chose them. Then Bennett brought home our late father’s illegitimate daughter. Camilla. He had held me tight and sworn, “Josie, Dad is gone. She’s technically blood, so we can’t let her starve. I promise you, she gets a roof and food, but that’s it. You are my only sister.” I didn’t like it, but I accepted it. But Camilla wasn’t satisfied with a roof. I became the obstacle she needed to obliterate. When Bennett was walking down the stairs, she intentionally poured a bowl of scalding soup over her own chest, then dropped to her knees. “Bennett, help! Josie is trying to burn my face!” When Declan had a fever of 104, I stayed awake for 36 hours pressing cold towels to his skin. The second his eyelids fluttered open, Camilla shoved me out of the way and threw herself over his chest, weeping. “Declan, you’re awake! I’ve been sitting up all night praying for you!” When Jude’s startup was on the verge of bankruptcy, I secretly liquidated my trust fund to save him. Camilla intercepted him in the hallway, slapping her own cheek until it bruised, tears pooling in her eyes. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Jude I was the one who funded him. I’ll let you take the credit, Josie.” Lie by lie, frame by frame, they began to look at me with exhaustion and disappointment. And they looked at Camilla like she was a fragile glass saint. Even on my wedding day, Declan looked at me with an undercurrent of resentment. I begged, I cried, I tried to show them the truth, but it only earned me Declan’s icy ultimatum: “If you’re so miserable, Josie, we can just get a divorce.” I had just found out I was two months pregnant. I wanted my baby to have a father. So, I swallowed my pride. Until she killed my baby. And I slapped her. And they sent me to hell. The glowing holographic countdown in my peripheral vision pulled me out of the memory. Six hours left. I grabbed the doorframe, swaying as I forced myself to stand. I met Bennett’s mocking gaze with dead, hollow eyes. “I’m not playing the victim,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “You hate me. I get it. Print the divorce papers. Print a legal severance of our sibling relationship. I’ll sign them both.” Before I detached from this universe, I wanted every tie severed. I was too tired to scream anymore. There was no point. The moment the words left my mouth, heavy footsteps echoed in the hall. Declan appeared, his jaw clenched so hard a muscle jumped in his cheek. Camilla stood pressed against his side, her eyes rimmed with theatrical red. 3 “Is my sister so furious that I’m carrying your baby that she’s taking it out on Bennett now?” Camilla whimpered, stepping forward and grabbing my arm. “Josie, please,” she sniffled loudly. “Declan and I… it was an accident. But the baby will be yours! We’ll give it to you to raise! Please don’t be angry, and please don’t abandon Bennett. He needs you!” Her voice was syrup-sweet, but her eyes danced with vicious triumph. As her fingers wrapped around my forearm, she found the deepest, most jagged scar under my sleeve and dug her acrylic nails directly into the damaged nerve. A blinding flash of white-hot agony shot through my skull. Purely on instinct, I violently jerked my arm back to get away from her. “Ah!” Camilla shrieked. She threw her arms up and tumbled backward into Declan’s chest, looking up at him with wide, terrified eyes. “Josie… why would you push me?” A split second later, the back of Declan’s hand connected with my cheek. The crack echoed in the hallway. The left side of my face went entirely numb. The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. Bennett stepped forward, his face twisted in grief and fury. “You know she’s pregnant, and you push her? You’re even more venomous than you were five years ago.” Declan glared at me, his eyes devoid of anything resembling a soul. “You want the divorce papers? Fine. You’ll get them. But first, you are going to attend Camilla’s design gala downstairs. You will stand in front of everyone, and you will publicly admit that she is a far superior jewelry designer than you ever were.” A sharp, grinding pain shot up from where my amputated legs met the hard plastic of the prosthetics. I opened my mouth to refuse, but Jude marched down the hall, two maids trailing behind him. “What are you waiting for?” he snapped at them. “Take my sister upstairs and dress her. Now.” I had no strength to fight. The maids practically dragged me up the stairs. The moment we were in the bathroom, they shoved me hard against the vanity and slammed the door behind them, not even bothering to help. I gripped the edge of the marble sink, looking into the mirror. The skeletal, hollow-eyed ghost looking back at me made my chest ache. There was a time when I lost two pounds from a stomach bug, and all three of those men had panicked, hiring a private chef to nurse me back to health. Now, I was quite literally starving to death, my bones pushing against my translucent skin, and they didn’t even notice. All they saw was Camilla. The maids came back in, taking one look at the network of scars on my chest with unabashed disgust. They threw a high-necked, long-sleeved evening gown at me. It was three sizes too big. I dragged my heavy, grinding legs down the sweeping staircase. In the grand foyer below, Camilla looked like a modern princess in a glittering, custom gown, clinging to Declan’s arm. Bennett and Jude flanked her, looking at her with overwhelming pride. As I hit the landing, the chatter of Seattle’s elite died. All eyes turned to me. Disgust rippled through the crowd. “Is that Josie Mercer? The jewelry prodigy? God, she looks like a corpse.” “Look at her neck—are those track marks or bruises?” “I heard she ran off with some cartel guys and caught some horrific disease.” The whispers were intentionally loud. The guests physically backed away from the staircase, terrified my proximity might infect them. Every step sent shockwaves of agony through my hips. The three men I once loved watched my painful descent with unmistakable irritation. When I finally reached the bottom, Camilla rushed forward, grabbing both my hands. “Josie! I’m so glad you came to celebrate me!” I just wanted to pull my hands back. As I tugged away, Camilla’s fist suddenly locked onto the high collar of my dress. With a violent, hidden yank, she ripped the fabric down to my breastbone. The horrific, mutilated landscape of my chest and shoulders was instantly exposed to the glittering ballroom. I gasped, crossing my arms over my chest to hide the scars. In the same motion, Camilla let out a theatrical scream and threw herself backward, crashing directly into a towering champagne pyramid. Glass shattered. Champagne rained down like a waterfall. “Camilla!” All three men abandoned their drinks and sprinted to her side, sliding in the alcohol. Camilla sat in the wreckage, sobbing, clutching Declan’s lapel. “Declan, it hurts! My stomach! Why… why does Josie hate my baby so much?” Bennett dropped to his knees, pulling Camilla into his arms. Declan stood up. He closed the distance between us in two strides and wrapped his large hand around my throat, lifting me onto my tiptoes. “You do this in front of the whole city?” he snarled, his eyes burning with a murderous rage. “You really haven’t learned a damn thing. I’ll have the van back here tomorrow morning. You’re going back to the woods.” The word woods triggered a primal, cellular terror inside me. I began to tremble violently. But then my eyes flicked to the glowing numbers hovering in the air. Two hours left. The fear vanished. I let my eyes slide shut. “Do whatever you want,” I choked out. His grip tightened for a second before he violently hurled me backward. “If you won’t learn in here, go kneel on the gravel by the front gates.” When I hit the marble floor, the impact reverberated through my battered skeleton. With a sickening crack, the locking mechanism on my right prosthetic snapped. The leg jutted out at an unnatural, horrific angle. Bennett and Jude’s heads snapped toward the sound. Declan froze, his eyes dropping to my leg. 4 Before Declan could take a step toward me, Camilla let out a blood-curdling wail. “Declan! My stomach is cramping! Am I losing the baby?!” The men instantly snapped out of their confusion. Panic consumed them. Declan scooped Camilla into his arms, his voice shaking. “No, no, baby, hold on. I’m getting you to the hospital right now.” As he sprinted past me, the pressure in my chest finally ruptured. I coughed, and a splatter of dark blood painted the white marble. Jude stopped dead in his tracks. He took a half-step toward me, his brow furrowing. But Bennett grabbed Jude’s shoulder, yanking him toward the door. “Leave her,” Bennett snapped, glaring at me with utter revulsion. “She’s incorrigible. She attacks Camilla and then puts on a pathetic show.” Jude’s expression hardened into ice. “And to think I actually felt sorry for you for a second. You’re pathetic, Josie.” Declan paused at the door, glancing back at me with a sneer. He gestured to his security team. “Throw her in the back of one of the SUVs. Bring her to the hospital.” Less than thirty minutes after Camilla was wheeled into the ER, a doctor rushed out, looking grave. “The patient’s body was already under immense stress,” the doctor lied—or recited whatever script Camilla had paid him to say. “The fall exacerbated her anemia. The fetus is in distress. We need an immediate blood transfusion to stabilize them both.” Bennett grabbed me by the back of my ruined dress and hauled me to my feet. His eyes were vicious. “She finally gets pregnant, and you try to kill it? Are you that twisted? Just because you’re barren, you want everyone else to be?” The broken prosthetic was digging directly into my raw flesh. I was shivering so violently my teeth rattled. I couldn’t even form words to defend myself. Declan stepped between us, but his words offered no salvation. They were colder than the Seattle rain outside. “Take her to the phlebotomy wing. Draw her blood. Once Camilla is safe, we’ll deal with her.” He motioned for the massive bodyguards to drag me down the hall. As I passed him, he scoffed. “Drop the tortured victim act, Josie. If you hadn’t shoved her, she wouldn’t need this. You brought this on yourself. And after she was so generous, offering to let you raise this baby.” He kept saying the word baby. It made the hospital lights blur. When the guards shoved me into the chair and the nurse approached with a thick gauge needle, my mind completely shattered. Every time I had seen a needle in that compound, I woke up without a baby. The last time I saw one, I woke up without legs. The trauma living inside my bone marrow hijacked my brain. I screamed. I thrashed wildly, knocking the tray over, dragging my broken, dangling plastic leg as I tried to crawl toward the door. “My baby… don’t touch my baby… please…” My pleas bounced off the sterile walls. Bennett and Jude caught me. They slammed me back into the chair, pinning my arms down by force. Bennett looked down at me, a twisted kind of pity entering his eyes. “Just bear it, Josie. You and Declan aren’t divorced yet. Camilla’s baby is your baby.” The nurse holding the tourniquet hesitated, looking at my bruised, skeletal arm, then up at Declan. “Sir… this woman is severely malnourished. Are you sure I should draw from her?” Declan flinched, his eyes darting to my face. The doctor from before stepped in smoothly. “The patient has a very rare blood type. If we don’t draw from her relative, we’ll have to wait for the blood bank. We might lose the fetus.” All three men went pale. “Do it,” Declan ordered, his voice suddenly hard again. “Those marks on her arm are makeup anyway. Don’t worry about her.” Jude looked away, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “Just do it, Josie. We can’t let Camilla die.” Bennett leaned down, looking me dead in the eyes. “If Camilla pulls through this, I’ll forgive you for everything you’ve done.” I looked up at the digital clock on the wall. Ten minutes left. I looked at the three men who had once promised to protect me from the dark. The men I had chosen over a peaceful life in my own world. “Are you satisfied?” I whispered, my voice sounding like it was coming from a ghost. “You turned me into a monster, a freak, a piece of meat. Are you happy now?” Bennett and Jude froze. Declan grabbed my shoulder, his fingers digging into my collarbone. “You almost killed Camilla’s child today! How do you have the audacity to play the victim?!” I stared into his beautiful, hateful eyes. A slow, terrifyingly serene smile spread across my face. “You’re right. It’s my fault. I never should have loved any of you.” None of them responded. The second the blood bag was full, they sprinted back to Camilla’s room, leaving me bleeding in the chair. I pulled the needle out myself. Leaving a trail of blood on the linoleum, dragging my broken leg behind me, I followed them. I stood in the doorway of Camilla’s VIP suite. The three of them were hovering over her bed like anxious guardians. Declan glanced up, annoyed. “Come here,” he commanded like I was a dog. “Apologize to Camilla, and we’ll let tonight go.” I didn’t walk toward the bed. I turned and walked toward the massive, floor-to-ceiling hospital window. I hit the emergency latch, pushed the heavy glass open, and pulled myself up onto the ledge. The cold city wind whipped my hair around my face. Declan’s brow furrowed. “Josie, what the hell are you doing? Stop throwing a tantrum. Faking a suicide attempt isn’t going to make us feel sorry for you.” Jude shifted his weight, his eyes suddenly wide, his mouth opening and closing. Bennett took a step forward, his voice taking on that old, commanding older-brother tone. “Get down from there right now. I told the chef to make your favorite dinner for when we get home.” Ten seconds left. I sat on the ledge, my feet dangling over the seven-story drop. I looked at them one last time. “An apology isn’t enough,” I said, my voice cutting through the wind, crystal clear. “I’ll pay you back with my life. Consider the debt settled.” As the counter hit zero, I leaned forward and let gravity take me. The last thing I saw in this universe was the blood draining entirely from all three of their faces. A split second later, Declan let out a guttural, inhuman roar, sprinting toward the window—

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “421011”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I’ve always had a God-given talent for reaching into other people’s pockets. When I accidentally became the convenient, purchased stand-in for a female billionaire’s untouchable first love, I played the part so well that in just one year, I managed to siphon off fifty million dollars. That day, I was lounging with my phone, happily counting the commas in my offshore bank account. Then, without warning, the floating text appeared. It overlaid my vision like a glitchy, digital hallucination—a rolling feed of comments and script notes dictating my reality. The text warned me that the “Golden Boy”—the real first love—was coming back. It said guys like me, the cheap knockoffs, never survived the third act. It literally told me I had about three chapters left to live. People in the floating text were begging me to fake my death and run. They said if I didn’t, the CEO would break my legs and lock me away the second her real love asked her to. They talked about it like it was a tragic, inevitable fate. Like I was a fly trapped in amber. Reading those words, the thrill of my fifty million vanished into thin air. Before I could even formulate a plan to ghost my own life, I was dragged to the lavish welcome-back gala for Tristan. The Golden Boy himself. Tristan wore a saccharine, fake smile as he picked up a ridiculously heavy, diamond-encrusted watch and clamped it around my wrist. He leaned in, his cologne suffocatingly sweet, and whispered that he heard I liked money. This watch, he said, was something his dog had gotten bored of playing with. Now, he was tossing it to me as a tip. Right then, the floating text in my vision exploded into a frenzy. They were screaming at me to take the watch off. [Throw it away!] they warned. [It’s laced with radiation! If you wear it, you’ll be dead before the week is out!] They said if I kept it on, the next chapter would be my funeral. Staring at the scrolling warnings, a strange calm washed over me. I finally had a plan. I knew exactly how I was going to fake my death and disappear. 1. The room erupted in polite, mocking laughter. I kept my head down for a second, then looked up, pulling my lips into a slow, deliberate smile. “Mr. Tristan going out of his way to humiliate me like this—” I let the sentence hang, my gaze driving straight through his eyes. “Is it because you still can’t let Debby go?” [LMAO SAVAGE! Hit him right where it hurts!] [Bro knows exactly how to uno reverse!] Tristan’s smug smile froze. The air in the penthouse suddenly shifted. The quiet, contemptuous amusement of the elite crowd morphed into a breathless, eavesdropping silence. I watched the blood drain from Tristan’s face, leaving him pale, before it rushed back in a blotchy, furious red. “What the hell are you talking about?” he spat. I didn’t answer. I just kept smiling, letting my eyes drift past his shoulder to the woman sitting on the velvet sofa behind him. Debby had stopped swirling the amber liquid in her crystal glass. Her eyes, usually so cold and unreadable, held a flicker of something dangerously close to anticipation. The whispers began, swelling like a rising tide. “Is Tristan actually still in love with Debby?” “Why else would he target Cameron so hard? The guy is literally just a hired stand-in.” “He probably wants his old life back but is too proud to say it.” Tristan’s eyes grew red-rimmed and damp. That was all it took for Debby’s heart to ache. Her voice cut through the room, sharp as a whip. “Cameron. Remember your place.” I lowered my eyes, the picture of absolute submission. “Of course, Debby.” Then, I casually unclasped the heavy watch, holding it up by the strap toward Tristan. “Thank you for the thought, Tristan. Even if the motive was a bit pathetic, the diamonds are real. I’ll gladly keep it.” Tristan was shaking with rage. He snapped his head toward Debby. “Keep your dog on a leash, Debby. He’s dragging down the class of the whole room.” Debby frowned, a tiny crease appearing between her perfectly sculpted brows. I looked at her, timing my exit perfectly. “Should I leave?” The room went dead silent again. Everyone was waiting for the billionaire to make her call. She let the silence stretch for two agonizing seconds, then stood up and suddenly grabbed my hand. “If Tristan doesn’t want us here, then we’ll leave.” [WTF? The cold-hearted CEO is protecting the stand-in?] [Something is wrong! Isn’t she obsessed with the first love?] I froze. Tristan looked like he’d been struck by lightning. He opened his mouth, but before he could form a word, Debby was already pulling me toward the grand double doors. Just as we reached the threshold, Tristan’s voice finally cracked through the room. “Debby! Are you really going to ruin my night for him?” Debby didn’t even turn around. Her voice was ice. “He came with me. Insulting him is insulting me.” Tristan choked on his next words. His chest heaved, his face a canvas of pure humiliation. The sycophants in the room immediately swarmed in to do damage control. “Come on, Debby, don’t be rash. Tristan was just joking around.” “Yeah, it’s his welcome-home party. Leaving now ruins the mood.” “Tristan, say something.” But Tristan just stood there, jaw locked. I looked at Debby’s profile. Her lips were pressed in a tight line, her eyes swirling with an emotion I couldn’t quite decipher. But I wasn’t stupid. I knew she wasn’t doing this to protect me. She was playing a game of chicken. She wanted to see if Tristan would beg her to stay. I had no interest in being a prop in their twisted romantic power play. I gently pulled my hand out of her grip. “Debby, please don’t fight with Tristan because of me. I can grab a cab back to the estate.” She didn’t let go immediately. Her grip tightened. But the whispers around her grew louder. “Debby, he just got back to the States. Don’t do this.” “Exactly, just talk it out. Don’t burn bridges.” “Mr. Cameron is offering to leave anyway. Don’t make it harder than it has to be.” Debby stayed silent for a long, heavy moment. Long enough that I actually thought she might hold on. Then, her fingers went slack. She let me go. [Wow. She gave up just like that?] [A simp is always a simp.] I let out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh, turned around, and started walking out the door. “Stop.” Tristan’s voice rang out, dripping with renewed confidence. I paused and looked back. He was looking at me, that sickening smile back on his face. “Mr. Cameron ruined my party. Letting you just walk out of here—” He took a slow sip of his champagne. “That would be insulting to me.” I furrowed my brow. “What do you want?” He swirled his glass, his eyes locking onto mine with malicious glee. “I want you—” He paused, letting the cruelty settle over the room. “To crawl out.” 2. I looked at Debby. She was frowning, her eyes darting between Tristan and me, a silent calculation happening behind her beautiful, empty face. “A million dollars,” she said quietly. “Do what he asks.” The tiny, pathetic ember of hope I didn’t even realize I was harboring hissed and died in my chest. I pulled my gaze away from her, the corners of my mouth curling into a bitter smirk. “Sorry. I have no interest in entertaining your sick fetishes.” I turned my back and walked. Just as I reached the elevator, a violent, shattering crash erupted behind me. Crystal glass exploding against marble. Then came Tristan’s voice, trembling with outraged entitlement: “Debby! You’re just going to let him walk away?!” I didn’t turn back to look. But my footsteps did falter, just for a fraction of a second. When I got back to the sprawling glass-and-steel mansion, I stood in the foyer, staring at the place I had lived for over a year. Debby was always working or traveling. Most of the time, it had just been me, wandering alone through rooms filled with silent, expensive things. I went upstairs and packed only the essentials into a single duffel bag. Before I left, I grabbed a sticky note and a pen. I wrote a single line and slapped it onto the cover of the Forbes magazine sitting on her nightstand. Debby: I’m leaving. A stand-in should know when his time is up. Me staying will only cause more misunderstandings between you and Tristan. Take care. — Cameron. I walked out the front door and looked back at the gilded cage one last time. It would be a lie to say there wasn’t a pang of melancholy. But mostly? Mostly, I felt relief. I was so incredibly thankful that I had always known exactly what I was. I had never, not for a single second, given her my real heart. [Bro is way too naive…] [If the plot armor wants you dead, you can’t just walk away.] [I feel so bad for him. He has no idea what’s coming.] I knew the script wouldn’t let me go that easily. I just needed to buy myself a few days while Debby was distracted with her Golden Boy, enough time to execute my “death” perfectly. I rented a dingy, cash-only apartment deep in a gritty borough. It was a chaotic neighborhood with no security cameras. Even with Debby’s resources, it would take her a minute to track me down here. Once the deadbolts were locked, I opened my laptop and started searching. Custom high-end watch replicas. Early stage radiation poisoning symptoms. List of corrupt radiologists in private hospitals. [??? Wait, what is bro cooking?] [Is he making a fake watch? To pretend he got sick?] [Genius! Turn the white moonlight’s gift into a murder weapon! Let’s see him play the victim then!] [But no real doctor is gonna risk their license for that. He needs someone with dirt on them.] I scrolled through the search results, my fingers flying across the keyboard into the early hours of the morning. The next day, wearing a baseball cap and a surgical mask, I walked into a run-down watch repair shop sandwiched between a tire shop and a shuttered laundromat. The neon sign in the window was half-burnt out. The owner was a guy in his fifties, chewing on an unlit cigar, squinting at me with absolute apathy. I slapped a glossy photo of the watch on the glass counter. “I need an exact replica. Real diamonds. The craftsmanship has to be identical down to the microscopic engravings.” The old man picked up the photo, then looked me up and down. “Kid, this isn’t gonna be cheap. Real ice? You’re looking at six figures, minimum.” I reached into my bag and pushed two thick stacks of hundred-dollar bills across the glass. “This is the deposit. Name your final price. I don’t care.” He flicked the cigar to the other side of his mouth and grinned. “You got it. Give me three days.” For the next two days, I ran background checks on every senior radiologist and oncologist in the tri-state area. My target doctor needed to meet three very specific criteria: a. Experience with radiation trauma, so the medical reports would hold up to scrutiny. b. Desperate for money or hiding a massive secret, so they’d be willing to commit fraud. c. A closed mouth. I narrowed it down to three. Dr. Evans, 45, drowning in medical debt from his wife’s terminal illness. Dr. Wallace, 38, private oncology clinic, rumors of taking massive kickbacks from pharmaceutical reps. Dr. Miller, 52, paying off his son’s gambling debts to some very dangerous people. I planned to make contact tomorrow. I was just about to close my laptop and finally sleep when my vision suddenly flared red. The floating text began scrolling at a frantic, terrifying speed. [WARNING! WARNING! ALARM!] [WAKE UP! RUN!] [URGENT UPDATE: Tristan just stabbed himself! Half an hour ago!] [He’s in the ER claiming YOU did it!] [Debby is already on her way to you! She believes him!] [SHE ACTUALLY BELIEVES HIM!!!] [RUN DAMMIT!!!] The blood in my veins turned to ice. I sat frozen in the glow of the screen. Because I knew, with absolute, terrifying certainty, that running was useless. 3. I chose to surrender in the cramped, grimy apartment. Even if this was a scripted reality, it was still a society with laws. The worst that could happen was going to jail for a stabbing I didn’t commit. We could take it to court. The flimsy door was finally kicked open. Debby stood in the hallway, her aura as suffocating and dark as a looming hurricane. In her fist, completely crumpled, was the sticky note I had left on her nightstand. “Cameron.” Her voice was soft. So soft it made the hairs on my arms stand up. “Tristan is lying in a hospital bed. He says you drove a knife into him.” I met her cold stare. “I didn’t do it.” “He has a puncture wound in his abdomen. His blood soaked through the mattress.” She stepped into the room, her designer heels clicking against the cheap linoleum. “And you… you vanished the exact same night, leaving a pathetic little note about knowing your place.” I searched her eyes. I saw pain. I saw fury. I saw crushing disappointment. The only thing I didn’t see was a single ounce of doubt. She really did believe him. A hollow, broken laugh escaped my throat. “Debby. Did you come here to hear my side of the story, or did you already pass the sentence before you got out of the car?” She went dead silent for one second. That one second of silence was all the answer I needed. “Take him,” she ordered. I thought her security detail was going to drag me to a police precinct. I was wrong. The black SUV drove for two hours into the deep, desolate woods upstate, finally stopping in front of a pair of towering, rusted iron gates. Briarwood Psychiatric Facility. “Debby…” My voice finally broke, trembling as I looked at the imposing brick building. “What are you doing?” She looked at me, her eyes as dead and stagnant as stagnant water. “Tristan says your mental state has been erratic. He says you’re showing severe violent tendencies and paranoia. He doesn’t want to press charges and ruin your life. He just wants you to get the help you need.” “I didn’t stab him!” I lunged forward, grabbing the fabric of her coat. “Debby, look at me! Believe me, just this once—” She physically pried my fingers off her coat, stepping back. “Get well soon, Cameron.” The heavy car door slammed shut. [WTF WTF WTF! A PSYCH WARD?!] [This is worse than prison! A sane person will literally go crazy in there!] [Tristan is purely evil. He gets rid of the male lead and plays the forgiving saint at the same time!] [DEBBY YOU ARE SO FUCKING BLIND!!!] Two massive orderlies grabbed me by the armpits and dragged me through those rusted gates. Behind me, the red taillights of Debby’s SUV bled into the darkness and disappeared. The corridors inside were endless. Suffocating. The sickly fluorescent lights hummed overhead, mixing with the sharp, clinical stench of bleach and the distant, muffled sounds of screaming—or maybe it was laughing. I couldn’t tell. I was thrown into a solitary confinement cell. A metal bed bolted to the floor. Barred windows. A heavy steel door. When the deadbolt clicked into place, I squeezed my eyes shut. Was I really going to be tortured to death by the plot? Not long after, I was dragged out and strapped into a chair in a suffocatingly small room. A man in a white coat sat across from me, casually flipping through a fresh chart. Dr. Wallace. My target number two. “Cameron,” Dr. Wallace said, not looking up. “According to the party who committed you, you suffer from severe violent delusions and paranoia.” “I am perfectly sane.” He smiled—a thin, corporate smile—and gave a subtle nod to the orderlies. They slammed me back against the chair. Heavy leather straps were buckled tight over my wrists and ankles. Cold, wet electrode pads were pressed against my temples. The exact moment the current ripped into my skull, my entire universe turned blindingly, agonizingly white. It felt like a thousand burning needles were being hammered directly into my brain. My body seized, violently thrashing against the thick leather restraints, completely out of my control. I don’t know how much time passed. The current stopped. I slumped forward in the chair, my clothes completely soaked in sweat, my chest heaving as I gasped for air. “That was session one,” Dr. Wallace’s voice floated over to me, sounding like it was underwater. “We have nine more scheduled.” I looked at him through eyes blurred with tears of pure agony. “How much… did Tristan pay you?” I choked out. He paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he chuckled. He leaned in close to my ear. “Enough to make sure you live in this room for the rest of your natural life.” [ANIMAL!!!] [This is actual murder without leaving a corpse!!!] [Someone spoil this for me, please tell me he gets out! He can’t actually die here!] I was dragged back to my cell and tossed onto the hard mattress. My body was still convulsing with aftershocks. The skin at my temples felt like it was on fire. I curled into a tight, shivering ball, staring blankly at the concrete wall as tears leaked from my eyes. It wasn’t fear. It was pure, unadulterated hatred. Tristan. That name was now permanently burned into the scarred tissue of my brain.

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When I opened my eyes to a second chance at life, I didn’t return alone. I came back tethered to a cosmic anomaly—an otherworldly entity that called itself the Genesis System. The Carmichael family legacy was bound by an archaic, ironclad rule: the sprawling, multi-billion-dollar empire could only be passed down to a male heir. This outdated tradition was exactly why Fallon Carmichael, Conrad’s only daughter, viewed the child growing in my womb during my past life as a lethal threat. She wanted the crown, and she was willing to slaughter to get it. I can still vividly recall the naive joy of my previous life. I had genuinely believed that marrying Conrad Carmichael was the beginning of my happily ever after. I had believed in his love. I was wrong. On the day of our wedding, his daughter, Fallon, had cornered me in the bridal suite. She handed me a flute of vintage champagne with a saccharine smile. “Who gave you the right to play stepmother?” she had whispered, her eyes cold and dead. “The Carmichael throne belongs to me. Only me.” The poison had been fast, but not fast enough to spare me the agony. I died choking on my own blood, my vision swimming in crimson as she watched with detached amusement. But death had only been a revolving door. This time, I was going to become her absolute worst nightmare. Soon enough, Conrad Carmichael would have sons. He’d have enough sons to fill a starting lineup, and I was going to sit back and watch Fallon’s entire universe burn to the ground. 1 It began on the night of Fallon’s extravagant twenty-first birthday gala. I had infiltrated the Carmichael estate as a newly hired maid. That evening, Conrad had consumed a generous amount of bourbon. I found him in the dimly lit study, carrying a tray with a glass of ice water and a steaming cup of black coffee. As I approached his leather armchair, I purposefully caught my heel on the Persian rug, tumbling forward right into his lap. “Oh! I’m so sorry, the coffee—it spilled,” I gasped, pitching my voice into a soft, breathless octave. Instead of pushing me away, the older man’s strong arms encircled my waist. He let out a low, gravelly chuckle, the scent of expensive cologne and aged whiskey wrapping around me. “Well,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to my lips. “Since you’ve ruined my drink, I suppose you’ll just have to compensate me with yourself.” By the time Fallon caught wind of my presence and stormed up from the ballroom, the heavy oak doors of the master bedroom could hardly conceal the thick, undeniable air of intimacy. She threw the doors open, her eyes bloodshot with rage. Stomping toward the bed, she reached out, her manicured claws aiming to rip the silk sheets right off my body. “You shameless, pathetic little whore! How dare you try to seduce my father!” I trembled—a perfect, practiced shudder—and shrank back against Conrad’s broad chest, pulling the duvet up to my chin. “Mr. Carmichael… I’m scared,” I whimpered. That fragile, melodic plea was a masterstroke. It instantly ignited Conrad’s dormant, primal instinct to protect. His brow furrowed into a harsh line as he shifted his weight, shielding me entirely from his daughter’s wrath. “Fallon! What is the meaning of this?!” he roared, his voice rattling the windowpanes. “Watch your filthy mouth! And for the record, she didn’t seduce me. I wanted her.” I let a single, crystalline tear slip down my cheek. “It’s alright, Conrad. If your daughter hates me this much… I should just pack my things and leave.” The sheer vulnerability in my voice struck a direct chord in the man’s chest. “You’ll do no such thing,” Conrad commanded, his tone softening only for me. “You are mine now. You stay right here.” He turned his piercing glare back to Fallon. “From this day forward, she is the mistress of this house.” Fallon’s face twisted into an ugly, unrecognizable mask of fury. She took a half-step forward, but the glacial warning in her father’s eyes forced her to freeze. Spinning on her heel, she fled down the hallway. Seconds later, the muffled sound of shattering porcelain echoed from her bedroom. Once the adrenaline faded, Fallon dialed her mother, Kimberley. “Mom, he slept with a maid! A filthy little nobody! And he’s talking about keeping her here!” “What? He gave her a title?” On the other end of the line, Kimberley froze. She was a former C-list actress who had managed to trap Conrad with a pregnancy decades ago, only to be unceremoniously divorced when her greed became too suffocating. She had walked away with a massive settlement, but her true golden goose was her daughter. As long as Conrad didn’t produce a male heir, the Carmichael empire was destined to fall into Fallon’s lap. Gritting her teeth, Kimberley smoothed her voice into a soothing purr. “Calm down, sweetheart. So what if he makes promises? A promise doesn’t mean she’ll live long enough to see the altar. You are the one who will have the last laugh.” Listening to their intercepted conversation through the System’s interface in my mind, a mocking smile touched the corners of my mouth. In my past life, Conrad had taken an interest in me too. But back then, I had been genuinely terrified. I had fled his bed before he even woke up, entirely avoiding Fallon’s initial wrath. Eventually, he tracked me down, courted me, and asked for my hand. Swept up in his earnest gaze, I had wept tears of joy and said yes. And for that yes, Fallon had murdered me. She had swirled the champagne in her glass, watching me writhe on the floor. “Such a blind, stupid girl. You just had to latch onto my father, didn’t you? Look where it got you.” I had died swallowed by a hatred so profound it transcended the physical realm. In the endless void, the Genesis System had found me. “Host,” the ethereal voice had whispered. “Fallon Carmichael acts with such impunity because she believes the empire is her birthright. Give him a son, and you shatter her reality. Shall we… make a pact?” 2 Of course I took the pact. I wasn’t just going to give him a son. I was going to give him a dynasty. I was going to drown Fallon in a sea of male heirs until she choked on her own despair. Over the following week, Conrad kept me by his side every single night. Under my gentle, meticulous care, he began to peel back his formidable layers. Carmichael Enterprises had been founded by his grandfather a century ago, passed down strictly through the men of the bloodline. But the universe had played a cruel joke on Conrad; he had been unable to sire a son. Crushed beneath the immense pressure of the board and his family’s legacy, he had reluctantly named his eldest daughter, Fallon, as his successor. Listening to his quiet confessions in the dark, my heart turned to ice. Passing the torch to a daughter would have been a beautiful triumph over patriarchal chains—if that daughter wasn’t Fallon. Her? Inherit an empire? She was a sociopath who treated human lives like disposable tissues. I would gladly burn the company to the ground before I let her sit on that throne. Once Conrad fell into a deep, rhythmic sleep, I summoned the System in the quiet theater of my mind. “Host, the embryo has successfully implanted.” A genuine, razor-sharp smile graced my lips in the dark. The countdown to Fallon’s mental collapse had officially begun. Despite being divorced for years, Kimberley still clung to the illusion of being the Carmichael matriarch, occasionally weaponizing Fallon to force family dinners with Conrad. But since my arrival, she had been entirely locked out. Even Fallon, too consumed with plotting my downfall, had grown distant from her mother. Driven mad by the shifting power dynamics, Kimberley finally snapped. After being denied entry by the estate security for the third time, she bypassed the main gates on foot, evading the guards, and burst right into my private sitting room. Smack! Before I could even register her presence, a stinging slap connected with my cheek. “You cheap little slut!” Kimberley shrieked, her chest heaving. “You’re a maid! How dare you think you can play house in my territory! Listen to me—Fallon is his daughter, and Conrad is my man!” I slowly turned my head, tasting the faint metallic tang of copper on my lip. Then, without a word, I planted my foot squarely into her stomach, kicking her so hard she flew backward and crumpled onto the hardwood floor. Spitting out a drop of blood, I tilted my chin down, looking at her as if she were dirt on my shoe. “I am targeting you because you are Fallon’s mother,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “And I’m not just going to take your man. I’m going to swallow the entire Carmichael empire.” Kimberley, accustomed to the untouchable high ground of her Hollywood days, was utterly stunned. No one had ever physically fought back. She sat there on the floor, clutching her ribs, her mouth opening and closing in shock. “You hit me… you’re insane!” she finally gasped. “The only insane one here is you!” Conrad’s booming voice shattered the tension. He strode into the room, bypassing his ex-wife entirely, and immediately cupped my face in his large, warm hands. His thumbs gently brushed the swelling red mark on my cheek. “Brooke, darling, are you hurt?” I forced my eyes to glass over with tears, adopting the posture of a woman trying desperately to be brave. I shook my head slowly. “I’m fine, Conrad. Really.” “You are not fine. You’re bruising,” he growled. He turned slowly, his gaze pinning Kimberley to the floor. The look in his eyes was absolute zero. “You vicious, pathetic woman. You dared to lay a hand on her under my roof?” Kimberley scrambled backward, panic finally breaking through her arrogance. “Conrad, wait! I hit her, yes, but she kicked me! She attacked me first!” 3 The temperature in the room plummeted. “Do you take me for a fool?” Conrad sneered. “I saw exactly what happened. Brooke was defending herself against a trespasser.” He didn’t bother hiding his disgust. “Get out of my house. From this second forward, you have no ties to the Carmichael family. And that limitless black card I let you keep? Consider it canceled.” Despite Kimberley’s hysterical sobbing and begging, Conrad’s security detail dragged her out of the mansion by her arms. When Fallon heard that her mother had been financially excommunicated, she came tearing into my bedroom that night, her face flushed with manic rage. “You! You engineered this! You’re the reason my mother is destitute!” Before she could lunge, Conrad stepped into her path, an immovable wall. “Fallon, enough! This is not Brooke’s fault. Your mother broke into this house and physically assaulted her. If you don’t drop this senseless vendetta and stop acting exactly like her, I will punish you, too.” I shrank behind Conrad’s broad shoulders, a picture of terrified innocence. Seeing that sheer aggression was failing, Fallon gritted her teeth and rapidly shifted gears. She blinked hard, forcing a pool of tears into her eyes. “Dad,” she choked out, her voice cracking. “I know you care about her, but I’m your flesh and blood. You’ve never yelled at me like this. Ever since she got here, you’ve looked at me like you hate me.” She softened her posture, throwing her arms around Conrad’s waist. “Don’t you love me anymore?” Conrad sighed. She was his daughter, the child he had indulged for two decades. The sight of her crying chipped away at his anger. “I have spoiled you rotten,” he murmured, his hand resting stiffly on her hair. “You’re an adult, Fallon. You can’t throw tantrums like a toddler. How am I supposed to hand you the reins of the company if you act like this?” Fallon’s eyes gleamed with a predatory victory. She pressed her advantage immediately. “I know, Dad. I know you love me most. But if I’m really going to take over as CEO, doesn’t my mother deserve some respect? If you don’t restore her status, the board is going to whisper that I’m just the daughter of a discarded mistress.” It was a blatant attempt to force him into remarrying Kimberley. Conrad glanced back at me, his jaw tight. He remained silent, refusing to agree. Right on cue, Beatrice Carmichael—Conrad’s mother and the terrifying matriarch of the family—swept into the room. “What in God’s name is going on in here?” Beatrice demanded, adjusting her silk shawl. “I could hear my precious granddaughter crying from the driveway.” Her sharp, hawkish eyes locked onto me, practically vibrating with disdain. “Conrad, you need to remember your priorities. A passing fling is nothing compared to your blood. And this one? She reeks of a social-climbing homewrecker trying to tear this family apart.” Emboldened by her grandmother’s arrival, Fallon sneered. “Exactly, Grandma! You have no idea how toxic this house has become since she crawled in. She makes me sick!” Conrad lowered his eyes, his voice tight. “Mother, Brooke didn’t do anything wrong.” “Ha! She ruined my mother’s life!” Fallon snapped. Losing her temper all over again, she raised her hand to strike me. I didn’t cower this time. I tracked the trajectory of her hand, and right as she swung, I threw my weight backward, twisting my body to ensure I landed hard on the floor. I hit the ground with a sickening thud, landing squarely on my stomach. A raw, piercing scream ripped from my throat. The room went dead silent. Under their horrified gazes, a dark pool of crimson blood began to seep through the fabric of my dress, staining the pristine carpet between my legs. “My baby!” I gasped, clutching my stomach. “God, it hurts!”

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This time, I kept it a secret. I walked side-by-side with the campus golden boy, hiding our “romance” from everyone—especially her. When she finally found out, she fell right back into her old patterns. It was predictable, really. But what she didn’t know was that this man wasn’t my boyfriend. He was a “gift” I had meticulously gift-wrapped just for her. My roommate, Natalie, always prided herself on her “impeccable taste.” She loved to claim we were kindred spirits, which was her way of saying she felt entitled to admire—and eventually take—every man I ever dated. She played the role of the concerned friend to perfection. She’d tell me I was too naive, too sheltered, and that I’d easily be “tricked by a man’s sweet talk.” Then, she’d offer to “test” them for me, as if she were doing me a grand favor. It was always the same script. She’d use my well-being as an excuse to slide into their DMs, to “accidentally” run into them, to charm them. And once she successfully lured them away, she’d come back to me, radiating a sickening sense of triumph. “See, Maria? I told you that you have terrible judgment,” she’d say, wearing that pitying smirk. “None of these guys are any good. If I hadn’t tested him for you, you’d be crying yourself to sleep right now.” Every time, I’d be paralyzed by a cocktail of rage and humiliation, unable to find the words to tear down her “altruistic” facade. 1 Natalie was currently parading around the dorm, flaunting a photo of herself with my most recent ex, Jackson. “He told you he couldn’t live without you when he was pursuing you, right?” she laughed, tossing her hair back. “But look at him now. I barely had to lift a finger, and he was practically begging for my number.” She leaned in, her eyes glinting with a fake, sugary sweetness. “Honestly, Maria, you should thank me. I saved you from a real jerk.” I clenched my fists so hard my nails bit into my palms. A hot surge of anger bubbled in my chest. “You’re literally bragging about being the ‘other woman.’ Do you even have a shred of dignity left?” Natalie blinked, her expression shifting instantly into one of wounded innocence. “Maria, I was just trying to protect you. How can you be so ungrateful?” Our other roommate, Kayla, immediately jumped to her defense. “Maria, don’t be so dramatic. You’re really going to ruin a friendship over some guy? It’s not that deep.” “Exactly,” Madison added, nodding in agreement. “If it wasn’t for Natalie, you’d still be getting played. She’s like a human filter for trash. You should be paying her for the service.” I opened my mouth, but the words died in my throat. My last five boyfriends were indeed trash, but was Natalie any better? Before each breakup, I’d managed to get a glimpse of their phones. Natalie’s messages were a masterclass in manipulation. She’d sent them suggestive photos—satin robes slipping off her shoulders, low-cut necklines—always followed by a “Does this make me look too pale?” or “I feel so lonely tonight.” They were all disgusting. Every single one of them. Natalie sauntered over, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Maria, you’re not actually mad, are you? I didn’t think it would happen, really. We were just chatting, and then he just… fell for me. I can’t help my charm, can I?” Kayla chimed in, “Of course not. Some people just have ‘it.’ Unlike some girls who think a 4.0 GPA is a substitute for a personality.” She and Madison exchanged a knowing look and giggled. I ignored their little inside joke, turned my back, and stared at my phone. The room went quiet for a few seconds. Suddenly, Kayla let out a sharp gasp. “Oh my god, look! Who is that?” She was practically hanging out the window, her neck strained. “Is that Sebastian? Sebastian Black? What is the campus god doing outside our building?” Madison and Natalie scrambled to the balcony. “Holy crap, it is him! What’s he doing here? Is he waiting for someone? Is he actually dating someone?” “Seriously, who is the lucky girl? He’s the ultimate ‘Untouchable.’ Total ice king.” Kayla turned to Natalie, a thought occurring to her. “Natalie, didn’t you try to get with him last semester? Is he off the market now?” Natalie’s face darkened for a split second. She didn’t answer. I knew why. She had spent six months throwing herself at Sebastian, and he hadn’t even given her his Instagram handle. I stood in front of the mirror, carefully applying a coat of cherry-red lipstick. “Aren’t you supposed to be mourning Jackson?” Natalie asked, blocking my path to the door. “Or are you heading out for a pity-date?” I brushed her hand away. “We broke up three months ago, Natalie. If you want my leftovers, keep them. I’m done with the trash.” My phone rang right then. I answered it immediately. A deep, smooth voice drifted through the line. “Hey, beautiful. I’m downstairs.” “I’ll be right there,” I said, my heart skipping a beat—partly from the plan, partly from the sheer performance of it all. Just as I was about to hang up, Natalie snatched the phone from my hand. “No wonder you don’t care about Jackson anymore,” she sneered. “You found a new toy.” Then, she pressed the phone to her ear, her voice dropping into that nauseating, high-pitched “baby” register she used with men. “Hi! I’m Maria’s roommate, Natalie. Are you Maria’s new boyfriend?” I don’t know what he said, but the smug smile on her face froze. Her eyes widened, and her jaw actually dropped. I grabbed the phone back while she was in shock and ended the call. Natalie stared at me, her eyes burning with a sudden, frantic jealousy. “Your boyfriend… is Sebastian Black?” 2 “There’s no way,” Kayla scoffed, though her voice lacked conviction. “Sebastian has the highest standards on campus. Why would he pick her?” “Exactly,” Madison added. “The girls chasing him literally form a line around the block. Maria? Please.” Natalie didn’t join in the mockery this time. She was quiet, her eyes scanning me from head to toe, re-evaluating everything. “Maria,” she said, her voice regaining its composure. “You didn’t just hire some guy to pretend to be Sebastian to mess with us, did you?” I looked at her—at that face that thought it had the world figured out—and I felt a ripple of genuine amusement. “Think whatever helps you sleep at night, Natalie.” I didn’t waste another second. I turned and walked out. Downstairs, Sebastian was leaning against a sleek, crimson Lamborghini. When he saw me, he offered a small, devastatingly handsome smile and waved. The sunlight caught the sharp angles of his face. He truly was the Golden Boy. No wonder Natalie had been obsessed. And that was exactly why I’d chosen him. “Did I keep you waiting?” I asked as I approached. “Just got here. Get in.” Sebastian stepped around and opened the door for me with a level of chivalry that felt almost performative, yet perfect. As I slid into the leather seat, I glanced up. There they were—three faces pressed against the balcony railing, their expressions a mixture of shock and pure, unadulterated envy. I nearly laughed out loud. Sebastian took me to an exclusive private athletic club. We were at the indoor tennis courts, and he was standing behind me, his arms wrapped around mine, adjusting my grip on the racket. It was intimate, calculated, and exactly what I needed. My phone buzzed. Natalie. “Maria, are you at the club?” I felt a prickle of annoyance. She was like a shadow you couldn’t shake. “What do you want, Natalie?” “Don’t be like that,” she said, her voice dripping with fake concern. “I’m just worried about you. I don’t want you getting caught up in something you can’t handle. Sebastian is… complicated.” “Sebastian is fine. And stop calling me,” I said coldly, hanging up. Sebastian handed me a towel and gently wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead. “Everything okay? Your roommate again?” I took the towel, meeting his gaze. “Yeah. Just someone who’s a little too interested in my life now that I’m dating someone like you.” He let out a low, melodic chuckle and ruffled my hair. A second later, a tennis ball whizzed through the air, clipping Sebastian squarely in the back. He winced, his brow furrowing as he turned around. Natalie was running toward us, looking breathless and distressed. “Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn’t see you there! I’m such a klutz!” She bent over to pick up her racket, her button-down shirt purposefully unfastened just enough. Sebastian’s eyes flicked over her with a look of utter indifference. He didn’t even acknowledge her “accidental” display. “It’s fine,” he said shortly. He put his arm around my waist, guiding me away. But Natalie wasn’t giving up. She reached out and grabbed his sleeve. “I feel terrible! Please, let me make it up to you. Can I get your number? I’d love to buy you a new shirt, or at least a drink to apologize.” I saw the flash of disgust in Sebastian’s eyes before he masked it. “Not necessary,” he said, his voice flat. “I don’t give my number to strangers.” He turned back to me, his expression softening instantly into something that looked like pure devotion. “Sorry about the interruption, babe. Let’s get out of here. I’ll take you to Cartier; you deserve a new bracelet for having to deal with this.” I smiled, casting a triumphant look back at Natalie. She stood frozen on the court, her face turning a sickly shade of gray. My previous boyfriends would always give her a polite rejection in front of me, but I could see the hunger in their eyes. They’d always end up adding her on social media later that night. She thought every man was the same—a lock she could eventually pick. But this time, she had slammed into the brick wall that was Sebastian Black. 3 I was satisfied with Sebastian. So satisfied, in fact, that for a fleeting moment, I almost believed he was the exception to the rule. But in this world, reality has a way of hitting you when you least expect it. A week later, I went to find him during theater rehearsals for the campus play. Sebastian was the lead, obviously. When I walked into the auditorium, the stage was dim, but I saw them in the wings. Sebastian and Natalie were sitting close—too close. They were sharing a cup of boba tea. Sebastian took a sip, and then Natalie leaned in, her lips hovering over the exact spot on the straw his mouth had just left. She took a long, slow sip, and then Sebastian took the cup back and drank from it again without a second thought. My world went static for a second. Sebastian looked up and saw me. He didn’t jump, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. He followed my gaze to the straw. “Natalie’s blood sugar dropped,” he said, his voice steady. “She almost fainted on stage a few times. I just wanted to get through the scene so we wouldn’t waste everyone’s time.” He handed the rest of the drink to Natalie. “Finish it so we can get back to work.” Natalie took the cup, sipping slowly while her eyes locked onto mine. She gave me a slow, victorious smile. “Your boyfriend is such a boy scout, Maria. No matter how much I flirt, he’s a total professional. You really picked a winner this time.” She walked away, her heels clicking rhythmically against the floor, her silhouette radiating the same arrogance she’d always had. I stood there, my heart hammering against my ribs. I knew that look in her eyes. It was the look of a predator who had finally tasted blood. Sebastian saw my expression and pulled me into an embrace. “Babe, don’t overthink it. The original lead actress got into a car accident, and Natalie stepped in last minute to save the production. I owe her a professional courtesy, that’s all.” I nodded, resting my head on his shoulder, playing the part. “You know… Natalie has a habit of liking my boyfriends. She’s taken them all. I’m just scared that you…” He held me tighter. “Trust me. You’re the only one I care about.” The words had barely left his lips when his phone buzzed. I caught a glimpse of the screen. A message from Natalie. He checked it quickly and pulled away. “I have to get back to it. I’ll call you later, okay?” I watched him walk away, and I felt my heart sink—not because I loved him, but because the game was moving faster than I anticipated. I thought Sebastian would be different, but it had only taken a week for her to get under his skin. Over the next few days, Sebastian could tell I was distant. To “make it up to me,” he invited me to a party on his family’s yacht, promising to introduce me to his inner circle. I decided to give him one last chance to prove my suspicions wrong. The yacht was massive, a floating monument to old money. The deck was lined with champagne towers and gourmet appetizers. Sebastian introduced me proudly: “Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Maria.” The guys were friendly enough, and for a while, the atmosphere was pleasant. But then, the conversation shifted to business—to the Black family’s latest pharmaceutical venture. “How’s the R&D on the new heart medication going?” one of his friends asked. Sebastian’s expression darkened. “We hit a wall. There’s a technical hurdle we can’t clear. If we could get a consultation with Dr. Howard Bennett, the top cardiac specialist, we’d be set. Otherwise, millions in initial investment are going down the drain.” Before anyone could respond, a familiar voice cut through the air. “Dr. Howard Bennett?” Natalie stepped into the light, looking stunning in a silk slip dress. “I know him. My aunt is a senior medical liaison; she’s had dinner with Dr. Bennett dozens of times. If you need an introduction, I can make it happen.” Sebastian’s eyes lit up with a spark of genuine interest. I stood beside him, my fingers tightening around my glass until I thought it might shatter. In an instant, his focus had shifted entirely to Natalie. While they were deep in conversation, I stepped into the shadows and pulled out my phone. I sent a text to a number with no name attached. The fish is biting. Move to Phase Two. 4 Sebastian began seeing Natalie behind my back. Frequently. And after every “meeting,” Natalie would show up with something new—a designer scarf, a piece of jewelry, a limited-edition handbag. One afternoon, she was back in the dorm, preening with a brand-new bag. Kayla’s eyes were the size of saucers. “Is that the new Birkin? There are only three of those in the city, Natalie! Who gave you that?” Natalie’s smile was enigmatic. “Some people think they’ve caught the Golden Boy, but they don’t realize that even the best statues can be moved if you know which buttons to push.” She looked genuinely satiated. I knew that look. She had finally “gotten” him. I suppressed the bile rising in my throat, put on my noise-canceling headphones, and turned the volume to the max. Sebastian hadn’t reached out to me in days, supposedly because he was “swamped” with the drug trials. But on my birthday, he suddenly asked to meet. He greeted me with an exuberant hug, his voice buzzing with excitement. “Maria, I have the best news! We finally broke through the research barrier! Everything is back on track.” He apologized profusely for neglecting me, explaining how much pressure he’d been under. If he succeeded with this drug, he would officially take over the family empire. The fact that he wanted to share this “first” with me almost touched me. Then, he took me to a high-end jewelry boutique and pointed to a stunning, ten-carat diamond necklace sitting in a velvet case. “Do you like it?” I was stunned. The piece was breathtaking—almost surreal. “It’s beautiful. But Sebastian… it’s a fortune.” “Price doesn’t matter,” he whispered. “I want you to have the best.” My eyes welled up. For a moment, the clouds of the last few weeks seemed to vanish. Sebastian took the exquisitely wrapped box and placed it in my hands. “Maria… do me a favor. Give this to Natalie for me.” I froze. “What?” “She’s been working tirelessly behind the scenes. She really came through for the company. Since you’re my girlfriend, it’s more appropriate if the gift comes from you. It keeps things professional.” I looked down at the box. My face was a mask of practiced neutrality. “Of course,” I said quietly. I messaged Natalie immediately. By “coincidence,” she was at the same mall. Sebastian and I went to find her. When we reached the designated spot, we found her in the middle of a heated argument with a man. It was Jackson. My ex. “Natalie, stop avoiding me,” Jackson was saying, grabbing her arm. “I’ve already looked at the penthouse at the Riverside. It’ll be in your name. Just stay with me, and I’ll give you everything.” Natalie hissed, “Jackson, you’re delusional. Let go!” But Jackson was relentless, refusing to let her walk away. In the next heartbeat, a blur of motion streaked past me. Sebastian slammed a fist into Jackson’s face. “Who the hell do you think you are, touching her?” Sebastian roared. Jackson stumbled back, spitting blood, staring at Sebastian with pure hatred. They lunged at each other, the fight turning brutal in seconds. It took four security guards to finally pull them apart. I stood there, watching the chaos, and a bitter laugh bubbled up in my throat. My current boyfriend and my ex-boyfriend were brawling in public—both of them fighting over the same woman. The irony was staggering. Natalie, eyes red and brimming with tears, threw herself into Sebastian’s arms. “Thank god you were here… I was so scared…” Sebastian held her tight, his voice a low, soothing murmur. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He threw a warning glare at Jackson and then led Natalie away. Not once did he look back at me. Not once did he remember it was my birthday. I turned to leave, but a hand clamped around my arm, pulling me into a nearby service corridor. My back hit the cool tile wall. A familiar scent—sandalwood and rain—filled my senses. After a long, breathless kiss, the man finally spoke. “Did you get what you needed, babe? How was my performance? Because every time that girl touched my arm, I felt like I needed to scrub my skin with bleach.”

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The words flickered across my vision like a glitching neon sign, and I froze. In this high-stakes marriage of convenience, I was nothing but a “fragile ornament”—a decorative weight he couldn’t wait to shed. The scrolling text told me he loathed my clinginess. They said my family’s “new money” status made me a joke in his world. They predicted that tonight, the moment he stepped into his office, he would fall for the real female lead at first sight. And me? I was destined to go into a jealous spiral, cause a scene at his headquarters, and get crushed by a truck. My family would be driven into bankruptcy by his hand shortly after. The tears that had been pricking my eyes suddenly vanished. All those times I’d cried because he came home late, because he pushed me away, or because he was too rough—it all felt pathetic now. I pulled back from him, forcing my voice to sound like ice. “You should go. The office is more important.” After all, this “easy-crier” reflex of mine was probably just an annoyance to a man like him. 1 Blake looked up at me, his breath coming in short, jagged hitches. His face was a mess of my lipstick marks, and his wrists were locked in leather restraints. I’d spent half the evening weeping just to get him to agree to this. When I’d handed him the sheer V-neck silk shirt and the cuffs, his expression had been dark enough to swallow the room. I had crumbled immediately, sobbing about how my best friend’s husband wore things like this, how he looked powerful and touchable, and how some women just had all the luck. Blake’s face had twisted with something like resignation, but he’d put them on. Now, his voice was a low, ragged growl. “Are you sure you want me to go?” His eyes searched mine, hunting for a crack in my mask. I nodded frantically, the sheer intensity of his gaze threatening to trigger my tears again. He went quiet for a beat. “Unlock me,” he said, his tone turning clinical. I shivered and climbed onto his lap to fumbling with the key. But my mind was a cinema of my own tragic ending. My fingers shook so violently I couldn’t find the mechanism. The more I panicked, the more the sob rose in my throat. He let out a heavy breath, his voice softening into something dangerously persuasive. “Gwen. If you don’t want me to leave, just tell me—” “There,” I gasped, the lock clicking open. I choked back a sob and pressed his dress shirt into his hands. “I’ll be fine here alone. Don’t worry about me. Drive safe.” Blake paused. He didn’t say a word. Maybe he really did find me repulsive now; when he took the shirt, he pointedly avoided letting our fingers touch. He dressed with the efficiency of a man reclaimed by his world. The tailored suit emphasized his broad shoulders and narrow waist, and once he slid his silver-rimmed glasses back on, the wall was back up. He looked distant, untouchable. “Don’t wait up for me.” I forced a bright, hollow smile. “Do what you have to do.” Blake’s jaw tightened. Without another word, he turned and left. The heavy oak door shut with a thud that echoed through the empty penthouse. The dam broke. The tears fell in heavy, silent drops. I dialed my mother, my voice thick with grief. “Mom… I want out. I want to end the arrangement.” My mother’s voice sharpened with concern. “What’s wrong, honey? What happened?” I stumbled over my words. I couldn’t tell her that Blake was going to fall for someone else, that I’d be killed by a truck, and that he’d dismantle our family’s empire. “He doesn’t love me,” I whispered. There was a long silence on the other end. “It’s okay, baby,” she said eventually. “A marriage should be a choice, not a sentence. The Callahan family… maybe they were always too much for us. I’ll talk to your father. Stop crying, okay?” “Okay.” I wiped my face. The bed beside me was already cold. It hurt. The “Feed” in my head was right. My family’s wealth had come fast—too fast. Before I was seven, I was drooling over dollar-store corn dogs. Then my dad won a massive lottery, made a few brilliant, aggressive moves in tech, and suddenly we were orbiting the elite of the East Coast. The Callahans, however, were old money. Centennial blood. People lined up around the block just for a nod from them. Blake was the golden heir, groomed for the throne since birth—composed, lethal, a man who took over the family conglomerate while most guys were still figuring out their majors. Supposedly, my family had done the Callahans a great favor once. I couldn’t remember what it was, and no one would tell me. I’d never even met Blake until a month ago when he showed up at our house and proposed the alliance. I’d wondered if it was a scam. But all my doubts had melted the moment I saw his face. I was all in. I wanted the man, the myth, the legend. Blake had given me a one-month “trial period.” He said if I felt it wasn’t a fit, we could walk away. At first, I thought he was being considerate. Now I realized he was just giving himself an exit strategy. Three days left. Just three days until the month was up. 2 To change the script, I spent the night being the perfect, invisible wife. I didn’t text him to ask if he missed me. I didn’t blow up his phone with “emergency” calls. I didn’t send a single emoji. In the morning, assuming he wouldn’t be back, I wandered downstairs without a bra, wearing only an oversized tee. “Why are you up so early?” The low, resonant voice made me jump. Blake was sitting on the sofa, a tablet in his hand. He looked up, his eyes sweeping over me, darkening instantly. Heat rushed to my face. [Lol, look at her acting all shy. Is she going to do the ‘clumsy trophy wife’ act again?] [Seriously, how old is she? The ‘innocent girl’ shtick is so cringe.] [The hero is exhausted from the office and has to come home to this? No wonder he falls for the heroine. Strong women are the future.] I dug my nails into my palms. Don’t cry. I fought the urge to throw myself into his lap and beg for attention. Instead, I gave him a cool, detached smile. “Couldn’t sleep. You’re back. Have some breakfast.” Blake set the tablet down, his brow furrowing. His gaze dropped to my feet. “The floor is cold. Where are your slippers?” “It’s summer,” I mumbled. “I’m fine.” When I looked up, he was already standing in front of me. Standing two steps lower on the sunken living room floor, he was eye-level with me. I could see the faint dark circles under his lashes. He looked weary. Edgy. I wanted to kiss the exhaustion right off his face. He reached out to pull me into his arms, a habit from the last few weeks. But then I caught it—the faint, unmistakable scent of a woman’s perfume. My fingers curled. I took a sharp, deliberate step back. “You should rest. I’m going to go eat.” Blake’s hand stayed frozen in mid-air. His eyes turned wintry. A chill ran down my spine. I didn’t dare look back as I bolted for the dining room. I didn’t see him staring at my retreating back for a long, long time. He didn’t stay long. He had to go back to the office. Before he left, he knocked on my bedroom door. I was curled up under the duvet, venting to my best friend, Sherry. I shoved my phone under the pillow like a guilty teenager. “Need something?” I asked, my voice hitching. I couldn’t let him see. Yesterday, he’d told me to stop listening to Sherry’s “nonsense.” If he knew I was currently trash-talking him, I’d be dead. Blake stood there, expressionless, his sharp eyes scanning my face before settling on the lump under the pillow where my phone was hidden. He lingered. I swallowed hard, my fingertips turning white as I gripped the edge of the mattress. “Blake?” He withdrew his gaze, his face somehow even grimmer than before. “I’m heading back. Call me if you need anything. Tell Maria what you want for lunch.” He paused. “I’m leaving now.” He was acting strange. He’d said “I’m leaving” twice. I just smiled at him. “Okay. Drive safe.” Blake’s grip tightened on the door handle until his knuckles turned white. He closed the door behind him. [Is the trophy wife actually giving up? I thought she’d beg for a goodbye kiss. Maybe she realized he likes ‘intellectual’ types and she’s trying to play hard to get?] [Please. He’s so annoyed he can barely look at her. If she tried to kiss him, he’d probably shove her off.] [He’s already subconsciously staying ‘pure’ for the heroine. Integrity is a man’s best accessory.] My heart felt like it was being soaked in acid. The ache was physical. I fought the tears with everything I had. My phone buzzed. A message from Sherry. “OH MY GOD! Dump him!! I don’t care how hot he is, he’s treating you like trash. It’s not like you begged for this marriage!” “It’s just a face, babe. With your money, we can find you ten models. 6’2, abs for days, guys who actually like you. Pick one!” “Seriously, end it. I’ll handle the rest.” I bit my lip. “Okay,” I replied. After I sent it, the weight of the night finally hit me. My eyelids felt heavy, and I drifted into a deep, dark sleep. I never saw the photo Sherry sent immediately after. 3 When I woke up, the room was draped in shadows. A single dim lamp was on by the sofa, casting a long, elegant shadow across the floor. Blake was sitting there, the soft light catching the sharp lines of his profile. He looked almost gentle—if you ignored the suffocating intensity in his eyes. “Gwen. Did you sleep well?” I startled, wondering how long he’d been sitting there in the dark. “Yeah,” I rasped, my throat dry. I reached for my phone. It was already plugged in, charging on the nightstand. I swiped the screen. It was a photo of a college-aged guy in a crisp white shirt—looking brooding, handsome, and very much like bait. My face went nuclear. I didn’t realize Blake had moved until he was right there, kneeling by the bed, reaching for my bare foot peeking out from the blanket. I flinched and shoved the phone face-down. “Blake! Why didn’t you wake me up?” My mind raced. Did he see the photo? Would he think I was looking for a replacement already? I searched his face, but it was a mask of exhaustion. “I’ll remember for next time,” he said quietly. There was a microscopic tremor in his voice. “Are you hungry? Dinner is ready.” I looked at him, the “Feed” echoing in my head. He must be so miserable being stuck with me. Even if he saw the photo, he’d probably just feel relieved. I pulled my foot out of his hand and gave him a strained smile. “I’m a grown woman, Blake. I can put on my own shoes. You don’t have to do that.” I added, “Thanks, though.” Blake’s empty hand slowly curled into a fist. “Right.” Dinner was excruciating. Blake didn’t talk, and I didn’t chirp away with my usual questions about his day. The silence was heavy enough to crush. My phone buzzed. A text from Mom. “Sweetie, your father and I talked. We support whatever decision you make. We just want you to be happy and safe.” The tears threatened to return. I didn’t want him to hate me more for being a mess, so I sniffled and stood up. “I’m done. Going to my room.” Snap. I looked back. Blake had just laid down his chopsticks. They were snapped clean in two. I froze, instinctively wanting to check his hands for splinters. But logic stopped me. Don’t be a nuisance, Gwen. I took a shower and felt a bit more grounded. I threw on a new silk slip and stepped out of the bathroom, only to be hit with a visual that stopped my heart. Blake was lying on the bed. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, his silver glasses catching the light. He looked devastatingly handsome. Like a trap. I felt a surge of heat. My hand moved toward him almost against my will. [Wait, is the hero actually seducing her? This wasn’t in the book!] [Why does he look like a king trying to reclaim his territory?] [The original plot says he met the heroine and her boyfriend today. He’s probably feeling territorial and taking it out on the wife. He’s just practicing his moves.] My hand stopped an inch from his shoulder. I reached past him for my phone charger instead. “Blake, I have something to say,” I murmured, my voice surprisingly steady. “Let’s end the agreement.”

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My mother, Seraphina Voss, was the only female Alpha in wolf history. She shattered the ironclad gender rule of the Alpha bloodline, a legend even the fiercest male Alphas bowed to. And I, Elara Voss, am her only daughter, the sole heir to her Wolf King bloodline. Right now, I’m staring at my father’s illegitimate daughter, my half-sister, Lila. I feel the bloodline imprint of my mate, Kael Black, in her swollen belly. My claws, snow-white and sharp, instantly sprung from my fingertips, but my father, Roderick, the current Alpha of the Silverveil Pack, pressed down on my shoulder. “Elara, this is your pup too!” My mate, Kael Black, Alpha of the Ironvein Pack, stood silently beside my father. His downcast eyes offered no rebuttal, tacitly accepting this absurdity. I understood. The pup in Lila’s belly belonged to my Alpha mate. Seeing my silence, Kael finally spoke, “You’ve never wanted to bear pups anyway. Lila is your sister; her having a pup won’t ever shake your position as Luna of the Ironvein Pack.” In their eyes, I never said no to them. But they didn’t know that on my mother’s deathbed, I swore by the Wolf King bloodline to protect them for seven years of peace. Now, the seven-year term is up. The pact is sealed. It’s time for me to go.

Kael Black’s hand was still resting on Lila’s swollen belly, his Alpha gaze so tender it could melt. Seeing this, my wolf inside me howled wildly, trying to ease the sharp pain in my heart. For so many years, I cleared out the rebellious factions in his Pack, ensuring his safety in the Alpha position. Yet, in the end, I was still no match for Lila, who only knew how to look at him with adoring eyes. “Elara, don’t be mad at Kael.” Lila lay on the bed, a harmless smile on her face. “Dr. Ellis said my health isn’t great. Kael was afraid something would happen to me and the baby, which is why he kept it from you.” “We’re all doing this for your own good. You’ve been Luna for so many years, yet your womb has been empty. The elders of the Pack have gossiped endlessly about it. They all say that you inherited Alpha Seraphina’s bloodline, but you can’t even bear a pup, bringing shame to the legendary Wolf King.” She said, patting my hand affectionately, “Once the baby is born, he’ll be registered under your name. He’ll share in Alpha Seraphina’s glorious bloodline, and he can call you ‘mother,’ okay?” My father cleared his throat, adopting his Silverveil Pack Alpha demeanor, and barked sharply, trying to assert an authority he’d never dared to show my mother: “Elara! The pup Lila is carrying is the firstborn of the Ironvein Pack, and the hope of our Silverveil Pack!” “Your sister is sharing the burden for you, for both Packs. Instead of being grateful, you’re giving everyone a cold shoulder? Don’t forget, your mother set the rule that you were to protect the Silverveil Pack!” Kael finally removed his hand from Lila’s belly and walked towards me. He tried to take my hand, but I sidestepped, avoiding him. A flicker of annoyed defiance crossed his eyes. He was so used to my obedience, used to me smoothing over every storm for him, allowing him to sit securely in the Alpha position. “Elara, we’ve been mates for so many years, don’t you understand me?” “Everything I’m doing is for you, for both our Packs. I can’t let other Packs talk behind your back, calling you a she-wolf who can’t bear pups, saying the legendary Wolf King’s daughter can’t even manage basic reproduction.” I looked at him, unable to say a word. He would never understand that my mother becoming the only female Alpha wasn’t about bearing pups. It was about her ability to protect the entire Western Territory’s wolf kin on her own. He also didn’t understand that I never cared about idle gossip. I only cared that the people my mother gave her life to protect, now turned around and trampled her legacy underfoot. Seeing I was unmoved, Kael’s patience finally ran out. “Alright, stop being dramatic. I’ve already had the kitchen prepare a feast to celebrate this happy occasion.” “As Luna of the Ironvein Pack, you should at least show some appreciation.” He turned to help Lila, a tenderness in his movements I had never seen before. “Lila, what do you want to eat? Should I have the hunting party go catch the freshest venison?” Lila leaned weakly against him, pouting playfully: “I want soup, and I want you to feed me yourself.” “Alright, whatever you wish.” They acted intimately as if I wasn’t even there, treating me like a transparent ornament. Standing there, I felt ridiculously superfluous. Just then, Dr. Ellis, the Pack’s doctor, walked in with his medical bag. He had been my mother’s exclusive doctor but, after her death, he became Lila’s. With a beaming smile, he pulled a bloodline test report from his bag, his voice loud, intentionally letting everyone in the room hear: “Alpha Kael, Alpha Roderick, congratulations!” He handed the report to Kael, his tone full of flattery: “Miss Lila’s pregnancy is very stable, and the bloodline test shows it’s a male pup!” Kael passionately kissed Lila, his aura practically vibrating with joy.

He finally had something to prove himself, a pup of his own, a bargaining chip to rid himself of the “legendary Wolf King’s son-in-law” label. My father was also flushed with excitement. He had lived his entire life in my mother’s shadow, and now, he finally felt he could triumph over the dead woman. Dr. Ellis turned to me, a hint of pity in his smile, “Luna Elara, don’t be too sad.” “Since your womb has been quiet, having Lila bear one for you is just the same. After all, Alpha Seraphina’s glory must be inherited by a child, mustn’t it?” The laughter in the room felt like countless poisoned needles, piercing my ears. I clenched my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms. They dared to desecrate my mother, daring to use her legacy to whitewash this sordid betrayal. Kael held the report, walked up to me, and thrust the paper in front of my eyes. “Elara, look how adorable he is. From now on, he’ll be our pup. He’ll inherit the Voss family’s glory, he’ll inherit everything from your mother.” My father quickly added: “But Elara, even though the pup will be registered under your name, he’ll also call Lila ‘mother.’ After all, only a biological mother can raise him well, unlike some people who only know how to fight and kill, completely lacking what a woman should be.” They still, as always, expected me to agree to all their requests. Just like seven days after my mother’s death, my father brought home Lila, who was only half a year younger than me. He claimed she was the daughter of an old acquaintance, but her face was almost identical to his. He dared to do this only because he was sure I would honor my mother’s dying wish, not expose him, and not destroy the Silverveil Pack. Just like after Kael said he wanted a pup of ours, I tried countless Dr. Ellis’s remedies, even though I had told him before we married that my body was severely damaged protecting my mother during an assassination attempt, making it difficult to conceive and impossible to take strong medicine long-term. He hugged me then, saying it was okay. But then, he used that very fact as an excuse to betray me. All because seven years ago, on her deathbed, my mother, using the Voss family’s Wolf King bloodline, established a blood pact. It was to help my weak father secure his position as Alpha of the Silverveil Pack, and to pave a bright path for Kael, whose Pack was on the verge of extinction, to rise again. For my mother, the Silverveil Pack were her kin, and the former Alpha of the Ironvein Pack was her savior. This was her last lingering attachment. But for me, it was nothing more than a seven-year agreement. Now that seven years had passed, I saw nothing worth clinging to here. I turned, walked to the deserted Moonlit Terrace, and called Cain, the trust lawyer my mother designated before her death. He was the person my mother trusted most, and the only one in the entire Wolf Alliance capable of dissolving a blood pact. “Mr. Cain, seven years are up.” Silence on the other end, then a sigh, “Luna Elara, everything is ready. At your word, all resources injected into the Silverveil Pack and Ironvein Pack will initiate recovery procedures within twenty-four hours. We anticipate all transfers will be completed within a week. All pacts were established by Alpha Seraphina with her Wolf King bloodline; no one in the entire Wolf Alliance dares to defy them.” “Begin.” Hanging up the phone, I felt the chain that had bound me for seven years finally loosen. I no longer had to carry my mother’s lingering obsession, protecting a bunch of ungrateful wretches.

Kael Black walked over at some point, frowning at me, “Who were you talking to so mysteriously on the phone?” “Elara, I’m warning you, don’t go making alliances outside using Pack resources.” “Raising a pup will require resources everywhere later; you need to be frugal. Don’t forget, all these things will be my son’s someday.” He lectured me as if it were his right, completely forgetting that his Alpha position, was entirely paved with my mother’s resources and fought for by me, blade by blade. Years ago, he was hunted by rival Packs, hiding in the snow like a stray dog. My mother sent people to rescue him. I brought him back to the Silverveil Pack, giving him a chance at a new life. I ignored him and walked straight to the dining room. The long dining table was laden with food, but all of it was Lila’s favorites. Kael meticulously picked out tiny bones from the venison for Lila, completely oblivious that I hadn’t even touched my fork. My father, his face flushed from drinking, suddenly spoke, his tone a commanding dictate: “Elara, transfer your inheritance rights in the Silverveil Pack, and the Voss family’s hunting grounds in the Western Territory, all to the pup in Lila’s belly. Consider it a welcoming gift from you, as his elder sister.” I looked up at his face, etched with calculation, and nodded softly. “Alright.” My quick agreement stunned them all. They had probably braced themselves for my tears and resistance, never expecting me to agree so readily. Kael was the first to react, a satisfied smile on his face. “I knew Elara was the most sensible. Truly Alpha Seraphina’s daughter, she understands the bigger picture.” “Then the hunting grounds and resources under your name in the Ironvein Pack, and the Alliance pacts your mother left you, transfer those too. For our child, you’ll certainly be willing.” Lila leaned against Kael, feigning worry as she tugged on his sleeve. “Kael, don’t be like that, Elara will be unhappy. These are Alpha Seraphina’s things for Elara, I can’t take them.” My father sneered. “What nonsense, she’s delighted! Elara. Come, propose a toast to Lila. That way, you, as her sister, acknowledge this child.” Kael picked up a glass of wine and offered it to me. “I can’t drink,” I said. Kael’s face instantly darkened. His Alpha dominance instantly swept through the entire dining room. “Can’t drink? To secure the Eastern Territory’s hunting grounds, you drank until you puked at rival Pack gatherings, why didn’t you say you couldn’t drink then? To help me secure a seat on the Alliance council, you competed in drinking contests with those Alphas, and drank until you collapsed for three days and three nights, why didn’t you say you couldn’t drink then?” My father chimed in: “Exactly. All these years, for the sake of both Packs, how many drinking parties did you attend? I remember you enjoying it then; you even eagerly volunteered when not asked. Why are you pretending to be so noble now? Do you really think you’re the legendary Wolf King?” All these years, one of them had to maintain the image of a refined and benevolent Alpha, while the other had to put on airs as the leader of a rising strong Pack. The dirty work, the life-risking negotiations with rival Packs, naturally all fell to me. They complacently enjoyed my mother’s glory, and the peace I risked my life to earn, then turned around and found fault with me for not being gentle enough, not “womanly” enough. Taking the glass Kael had practically shoved to my lips, I turned to Lila. Her face held a poorly concealed triumph. I raised the glass and said to them, “To celebrate Lila’s good news, in a week, I’ll give you a grand gift.”

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The day my parents ran away with my sister, Lily, they handed me over to the debt collectors as collateral. “This kid’s got issues, always glued to books, talking nonsense like an idiot.” “If you can take her, fine. If not, just sell her for cash.” Lily’s bright laughter floated from the hallway: “Mom, isn’t Chloe coming with us?” “No, sweetie. We’re not taking her.” I’d heard that sentence countless times. After Lily was born, everyone in the family revolved around her. I ran over, wanting to see, but Mom pushed me away: “Don’t touch your sister, your hands are dirty.” From then on, I was the extra one. When the debt collector’s big brother kicked open the door, he saw me squatting in the corner, reading a book on criminal law. “Hey, your parents bolted. How do you plan to pay back the money?” I closed my book: “Sir, I’ve analyzed your recordings of violent debt collection. Twelve points can be argued as civil disputes. Follow my plan, and you can avoid jail time.” He froze. I broke down their three years of past cases one by one, writing out strategies to mitigate risks. The man with the dragon tattoo finished reading, then cursed: “I’ve been a gang boss for 20 years, and today I just learned you can collect debts legally.”

He introduced himself as OG Marcus, then crouched down to my eye level. I could clearly see the scar on his chin and my reflection in his pupils. “Who taught you to say all that?” I shook my head, fighting back my fear as I answered word by word: “I taught myself.” He scrutinized me from head to toe, his suspicious gaze sweeping over my malnourished arms. “Did your parents often hit you?” I shook my head. They didn’t hit me. They just acted like I didn’t exist. There was no plate for me at the dinner table, no face in family photos, and no one cared when I got sick. Once, I had a fever of 104°F and couldn’t get out of bed. My mom glanced at me and said, “Stop pretending. You just want to be lazy.” Then she took Lily shopping. I lay in bed for three days before I finally pulled through. Marcus came knocking to collect debts while I was hiding in the corner reading. It was a Civil Code I’d picked up from the trash. A corner of the cover was missing, and I’d taped it up. I’d read the words inside so many times I could recite them by heart. Beside me, my parents and Lily were packing luggage. Since I could remember, they’d argued and thrown things in front of me, then disappeared with Lily. Before each disappearance, they’d always say the same thing: this kid isn’t as likable as Lily; bringing her along is just a hassle. So every time, I was the one left behind. When my parents returned after fleeing debts, they’d always look at me with a strange gaze and sigh. Later, I understood it was disappointment. Disappointment that I was still alive and well, disappointment that they had to support this burden of a child again. I looked up into Marcus’s eyes. They were fierce, but I’d seen fiercer. My dad’s eyes after losing money, like he was looking at trash. “My parents have owed debts for over a decade. Our house was full of legal documents. I had nothing else to do, so I read them.” A piece of moldy bread and a book, and a day would pass. I paused, then added, “I started reading when I was three.” I wasn’t boasting. My parents had abandoned me to these people. If I couldn’t prove my usefulness, I might be sold off. “How old are you?” “Twelve.” Marcus looked at me, his eyes full of suspicion. The hallway light flickered. He stood up and waved his hand. “Frank, bring all our IOUs. Let our big shot lawyer take a look.” I don’t know how long passed, my legs were numb from squatting. Frank finally carried over a cardboard box. It was heavy, landing on the floor with a thud. Inside were IOUs, contracts, and transfer records, all haphazardly crammed together. Marcus patted the box, nodding at me. “Big shot, show us what you’ve got.”

Marcus and his crew were playing cards in the living room. Three men, hunched around a folding table, smoking cigarette after cigarette, the whole room thick with smoke. I sat in the corner, poring over the contents of the box under the dim light. Mid-game, the youngest man, Leo, glanced at me: “Marcus, come on, what could a twelve-year-old kid possibly figure out?” Frank also looked over: “She’s been sitting there for two hours, hasn’t moved a muscle.” I didn’t dare move. I’d seen abandoned kids before. There was a boy, two years older than me, who slept beside a trash can after his parents ran off. His eyes were empty, like two dark holes. Marcus didn’t speak, playing a card. As soon as he spoke, I put down the last file. “I’m done.” Everyone looked over. I walked to the folding table, and they automatically made space. The table was covered in ash and beer cans. I swept them aside, clearing a spot. I pointed to the first case: “The year before last, in March, you said, ‘If you don’t pay up, we’ll make sure you regret it.’ That was deemed a threat. But if you’d said, ‘If you don’t pay up, we will pursue legal action,’ it would be a legitimate collection notice.” Frank’s mouth hung open. I pointed to the second: “Taking the debtor’s fridge and TV was classified as theft. But if you’d had the debtor sign a debt-for-asset agreement at the time, it would have been a voluntary civil transaction between both parties.” “Splashing paint. Illegal, but only civil compensation is needed. Go apologize and pay the person, then have them sign a letter of understanding.” “Last September was the most dangerous. Someone was injured, a pretty serious injury. But they struck first, so you could argue excessive self-defense, not intentional assault. The sentencing difference between those two is three years.” The room was silent. No one spoke. Marcus leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression shifting from skepticism to seriousness. “Marcus, the kid actually makes some sense.” Leo, the young one, picked me up and looked me over, his voice astonished: “You’re only twelve? How do you know all this? Are you a genius?” I flailed my arms and legs, wanting him to put me down. My face flushed crimson. No one had ever hugged or picked me up since I was little. I wasn’t used to the feeling of being lifted off the ground. I was scared. Marcus took a hard drag from his cigarette, then gave Leo a light whack. “She’s a girl, she’s shy!” He stood up, walked over to me, and crouched down. It was the second time tonight he’d crouched to my eye level. “Chloe,” he said, “you’ll follow me from now on. I’ll pay for your education. You just need to do one thing: teach us how to live legally.” “What’s in it for me?” Marcus paused. Perhaps no one had ever negotiated with him before; his lips trembled slightly. “You’re a clever cookie, little girl. Much sharper than your parents.” “You’ll get thirty percent of all recovered money. Also, I’ll rent you an apartment with a bed, a desk, a lamp, and a south-facing window.” A south-facing window. Since childhood, no matter how many times we moved, Lily always got the big room, a princess bed, and pink curtains. When the sunlight streamed through the window onto her curtains, she’d dance in the sun in her princess dress, looking beautiful. My room was always the smallest, cluttered with junk, never getting any sunlight all year round. Once, I was so cold I couldn’t bear it, so I crouched by Lily’s bedroom door. Lily woke up in the middle of the night, screaming that I was trying to scare her. From then on, I never longed for her room again. “Okay.” Marcus extended his hand. It was a large hand, with thick knuckles and several old scars on the back. I took it. Marcus squeezed once, then let go and stood up. “Frank, tomorrow, get her transferred to the best school.” Frank wiped his eyes, his voice muffled: “Got it.” “Leo, go buy her a backpack. A good one.” Leo grinned: “Alrighty!” “From today on,” Marcus swept his gaze over everyone, “she’s our little lawyer. Anyone who disrespects her, don’t blame me for being rude.”

Marcus didn’t lie to me. The new apartment was next to the school, only a ten-minute walk. The entire balcony faced south, and when the sunlight poured in through the windows, it made me squint. I stood on the balcony for ten minutes. Just stood there, doing nothing, letting the sun warm me. It wasn’t until tears fell onto the back of my hand that I realized I was crying. I didn’t know why, only that there was a fire in my heart that needed to be released. I cried for a while, wiped my face, and went back inside. A row of new books sat on the desk; Leo had brought them last night. Books on law and textbooks for school, all neatly arranged. I sniffed the scent of the pages; they smelled fresh. When Marcus pushed open the door with breakfast, I was sitting at the desk, staring blankly at the new books. He glanced at me, said nothing, placed breakfast on the table, and went to the kitchen for forks. I watched him clumsily pour milk into a bowl, spilling a little on the table, then wiping it with a cloth. “What are you looking at? Eat.” I sat at the table and took a bite of a churro. It was crispy. I took another bite. I didn’t have good table manners. No one had ever taught me table etiquette. Eating was for living, and living meant shoving food into my mouth as quickly as possible because I didn’t know when the next meal would be. Once, Mom made a table full of food. I was ravenous, ate too fast, and choked. I coughed desperately, my face turning crimson. Mom glanced at me and said, “Like a starving ghost, so embarrassing.” I ran to the kitchen myself, turned on the faucet, and drank several gulps of water until I swallowed what was stuck. A flicker of an unreadable emotion crossed Marcus’s eyes. “Chloe, do you hate your parents?” I thought about it. I matured early. I wasn’t as sweet-talking as Lily; I couldn’t sweetly call out “Mommy” and “Daddy.” I loved reading, and when those facts drilled into my mind, I even thought I was sick. I went to tell my parents, but they thought I was a weirdo. “What garbage are you reading? What if it messes up your brain?” “Stop reading, go wash the dishes.” In their eyes, reading was the most useless thing. When I came home with an award for first place in my class, Mom was braiding Lily’s hair and didn’t even look up: “Just put it there.” I placed it on the table, hoping she’d glance at it. The next day, I found it crumpled up in the trash can, discarded with the garbage. I picked up the award, smoothed it out, and pressed it under my pillow. “What is hate?” Marcus was silent for a moment, then peeled a boiled egg for me. “None of that matters.” “Chloe, you must study hard. Go to the best university, get the best grades. Later, you can do whatever you want, without having to cater to anyone’s whims.” “When you become a lawyer, I’ll be your security guard.” Frank acted fast. He got me into the city’s best private middle school. Tuition was fifty thousand a year, not including miscellaneous fees or uniform costs. I didn’t know how much debt Marcus and his crew had to collect to earn fifty thousand dollars. When he dropped me off at school, he even slipped a wad of cash into my pocket. “You don’t have to worry about money. Just study. Study hard, and later you can help me with my cases.” He instructed me gruffly. I nodded, standing at the school gate, looking back at him. I suddenly remembered when I used to attend school, and they’d ask for material fees. Mom would always give me half the money, saying we were struggling. Later, I learned to be smart, saving my lunch money to pay for materials. That way, Mom wouldn’t complain daily about me being expensive. The sun shone on Marcus, a small section of his dragon tattoo peeking out from his shirt collar. The homeroom teacher led me to the classroom and gestured for me to introduce myself. I was silent for a moment before I spoke: “My name is Chloe, and I like to read.” I didn’t know what else to say. Before, at school, even the teachers preferred the sweet-talking Lily. Teachers never called on me, and classmates never spoke to me. I was an invisible presence. The homeroom teacher smiled and asked, “What kind of books do you like to read?” I thought for a moment and decided to tell the truth: “Law books.” The classroom fell silent for a second, then erupted in laughter. “Law? Hahahaha!” “Is she a lawyer?” “Reading law books at twelve? Who’s she trying to impress?” The homeroom teacher clapped the desk: “Quiet! Quiet! Every student has different hobbies, and we must respect each other.” The laughter subsided, but the whispering didn’t stop. Bearing everyone’s gaze, I sat down in the last row. I lowered my head, focusing on my textbook. The words blurred then sharpened before my eyes, sharpened then blurred again. I didn’t cry. I couldn’t cry. Just like that, my life seemed to get back on track. Every day, I listened attentively in class. After school, I read books. In the evenings, I’d read legal knowledge to Marcus. Though every time, he’d usually just clean his ears and snore loudly. But I really liked this kind of life. During the first placement test, I got the top score. I held my report card, carefully tucking it into my backpack. I wanted to go back and show it to Marcus. But after a quick trip to the restroom, I returned to find my backpack thrown on the floor. Its contents spilled everywhere. A few boys were stepping on my books, their voices mocking. “She just transferred and got first place? Probably cheated.” “Guys, let’s rip up all her books. See how she copies then.”

Everyone around was watching, their faces carrying a subtle malice. Seeing me, they scattered. I walked over and picked up the things from the floor. My report card had a huge ‘X’ drawn across it, with “CHEATER” scrawled underneath. I carefully smoothed out the report card, holding it to my chest. The red ‘X’ couldn’t be erased. Neither could the words. It’s okay. I don’t need to care what they think. The next day, those boys poured ink and dead rats into my backpack. Everything was stained black, including the backpack itself. I went to the homeroom teacher. She looked at me with a sigh, her eyes filled with pity: “Ethan’s family is well-off, and he tends to be a bit boastful.” “He didn’t mean it, I’ll talk to him.” I returned to the classroom and placed my backpack on the desk. Someone quietly asked me, “Are you okay?” Before I could answer, Ethan’s voice rang out: “What could an unwanted stray possibly have wrong with her?” “You guys don’t know, do you? Her parents didn’t want her, they only liked Lily.” “Someone like her probably fantasizes about becoming a big lawyer and then proving them all wrong, right? What do they call that? Watched too many revenge dramas!” My hand clutching the backpack strap tightened. Everyone burst into laughter. I sat in my seat, legal statutes from the Civil Code flashing through my mind. From the very first article, I recited it over and over again. It wasn’t until the dismissal bell rang that I slowly headed home. When I got home, it was already dark. My backpack zipper was stuck; I tried several times but couldn’t open it. I sat on the couch, hugging my backpack, staring blankly. Marcus happened to come by to bring me dinner. He’d come two or three times a week, bringing food, bringing fruit. Sometimes he wouldn’t bring anything, just sit on the couch for a bit, watching me do my homework. He saw the backpack in my arms, and his face changed. “Who did this?” I didn’t speak. I didn’t know if Marcus would help me. He was good to me, providing for my education, but this kindness had conditions. Because he thought I was useful. But if I caused him trouble, what would he do? I didn’t dare to gamble. “Chloe, listen to me, you’re not alone anymore. If someone bullies you, you have to tell me.” “Marcus, do you hit people?” He paused. “Yes.” “Do you hit kids?” He paused again, then a slow smile spread across his lips. “Hit kids? I absolutely hit kids.” “Marcus, they’re only teenagers.” “So what? If they dare to bully you, they’ll pay the price.” I thought for a moment, then decided to tell the truth. “Ethan did it. His dad is on the school board. The teacher said I couldn’t afford to offend him.” Marcus stood up, pulled out his phone, and scrolled through a few contacts. “Mr. Davis,” he read aloud. “Owes two million three hundred thousand in merchandise payments. It’s been half a year. I was planning to go see him next month.” He put his phone away, looking at me. “Chloe, what do you want me to do?” The next day, I didn’t go to school. Not because I was afraid of Ethan. There was a contract for the company that needed reviewing, and Marcus couldn’t handle it, so I had to go help him oversee it. But Ethan didn’t know any of this; he thought I’d been scared off. During break, he stood at the front of the class, addressing everyone: “That stray isn’t here today; he must have been scared away by me.” “Honestly, I despise people who don’t know their place. They get one top score and think they’re hot stuff.” The whole class laughed along. A few girls whispered, “You guys shouldn’t be like this, she’s pretty pathetic.” Ethan got even more excited: “Pathetic? What’s pathetic? Her parents don’t even want her; it must be because there’s something wrong with her. She’s just an unwanted stray…” He didn’t finish his sentence before the classroom door was kicked open. Marcus, wearing a tight T-shirt that showed off his dragon tattoo, stood there. Behind him, Frank and Leo stood in a line, grinning as they looked into the room. “Heard someone’s been bullying Chloe?”

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The day of my heart transplant, my mother locked me in the dark basement. It was all because Chloe, the girl she treated as her own daughter, also needed a heart transplant. To ensure Chloe got the heart that was a perfect match for me, my mother covered my chest with electrode pads to suppress my heartbeat. I knelt on the ground, begging her, pleading with her to let me go. But my mother was unmoved. She pressed hundreds of electrode pads deep into my skin, making the angina I already suffered from even more unbearable. The last electrode pad was placed directly over my heart by my mother herself. She looked at me, trembling all over, and said coldly, “Chloe has been frail since childhood. She just wants a healthy heart. Do you have to fight her for even this?” “Ever since you came back, you’ve always targeted Chloe. Let’s see how you like this piercing pain!” “The specialists said the electrode pads, combined with a dark environment, could strengthen your heart. You can have your surgery later, once they find a second donor heart.” I lay on the ground, close to fainting, waiting for my mother to come and get me out. But my mother was overjoyed when Chloe’s surgery was a success, taking her on a trip to Europe. It wasn’t until two months later, when my mother returned home and saw my empty room, that she remembered me. She then ordered someone to rush me to the hospital. Housekeeper Mrs. Davies hesitated, her words caught in her throat. “Lily… she’s already dead in the basement.”

The electric currents coursing through my body, combined with the excruciating pain of my angina, made me question if I was still alive. Only my mother’s cold eyes in front of me forced me to cling to a sliver of consciousness. Before the basement door was shut, I desperately clung to my mother’s pants leg. “Mom! I really can’t hold on. My heart hurts so much. If this goes on, I’ll die…” “Please, can you send me to the hospital? I promise I won’t fight Chloe for the heart. I’ll just take my medication…” I cried and begged my mother, but she was indifferent. She turned to patiently comfort Chloe, who stood by, watching the show. “Be a good girl, Chloe. Don’t be nervous during the surgery. I will be with you the whole time.” “After you recover, I will take you to travel the world and give you everything I own, okay?” Chloe shot me a defiant glance, then asked my mother, “If all your assets go to me, what about Lily?” “Lily? Ha.” My mother scoffed. “She’s lived a life of poverty for so many years. She’s used to not having money. My love will be enough for her.” As she turned to take Chloe to the operating room, she suddenly received a call from Martha, my grandmother. “Ellie, Lily should be having her surgery soon, right? Please make sure you take good care of her these past few days. Lily has suffered so much. We can’t afford any more mistakes this time.” My mother mumbled a quick dismissal and hung up the phone. I closed my eyes, using the last bit of my strength to speak. “Mom… I really wasn’t lying. I’m in too much pain…” “If Martha finds out, she’ll definitely blame you…” After the Vance family found me again, my mother had always been cold towards me, all to manage Chloe’s emotions. At my mother’s instruction, everyone in the Vance household kept their distance from me. Only Martha was happy about my return. Even this donor heart was found with Martha’s help, but she had no idea that my mother had already forced me to give it to Chloe. After hanging up the phone, my mother glanced at me again. At this point, I was in so much pain I’d almost lost all feeling. My face was a mess of blood and tears. My mother looked at me, momentarily stunned, even wondering if the specialists’ words were credible. Chloe suddenly squatted down. Out of my mother’s sight, a faint smirk played on her lips. Then, she brutally pressed both hands onto my chest. The electrode pads on my chest dug in even deeper. The tearing sensation in my chest made me scream in agony. But Chloe suddenly fell backward, landing hard on her backside. Immediately, she burst into tearful sobs. “Lily, I just wanted to comfort you. You know my heart isn’t strong, yet you pushed me. Do you really need me to die for you to be happy?” My mother’s eyes instantly filled with pity. She pulled Chloe into her embrace, comforting her softly. Chloe cried, shaking her head. “I know my sister doesn’t like me. She blames me for taking her place for so many years, but I really have been kind to her.” “Maybe you should just send me away, Mom. That way, I won’t be in my sister’s way anymore.” My mother snorted. “If anyone’s leaving, it’ll be her.” After soothing Chloe, my mother turned and yelled at me. “How can you be so malicious?!” “You always pick on Chloe. She only wanted to show you some care, but you deliberately pushed her over.” “If anything happens to Chloe, I will never forgive you.”

If my current appearance hadn’t been so horrifying, my mother probably would have made me kneel in the yard for three days and three nights, just like before. My mother knew I had been kidnapped and suffered in that remote area for ten years. I had always been cautious and never blamed her for not taking care of me back then. But now she called me malicious? Finally, my mother left with Chloe, not even sparing a glance for me, lying on the ground, dying. The angina and the pain of the electrode pads digging into my chest felt like less than a thousandth of the pain in my heart. I was my mother’s biological daughter. Before I was taken, I was once her cherished little princess. But when I returned ten years after being kidnapped, I found a strange girl in our house. She also called my mother “Mom.” The gentle mother I remembered seemed to have changed overnight. She was still as meticulous in her care, as if she’d pluck the moon from the sky for her daughter, but the daughter in her heart wasn’t me, it was Chloe. Blood already blurred my vision. Suddenly, a wave of angina brought me back to full consciousness. I hadn’t even received my heart transplant yet. How could I just die like this? In the basement, I woke up only to faint again, over and over, no longer able to distinguish day from night. After regaining some strength, I forced myself to crawl to the iron door and repeatedly pounded on it. “Help me… Is anyone there?” “It hurts so much… Please let me out…” The rough iron door scraped my hands, but I couldn’t feel the pain anymore. It wasn’t until I had no strength left to lift my hands that I finally heard footsteps outside the door. I clutched at a straw of hope, calling out for help again. “Help me…” But upon hearing my plea, Mrs. Davies outside the door snorted disdainfully. “Stop shouting! If you disturb Mrs. Vance and Miss Chloe, you’ll be in for it!” “A country bumpkin from nowhere, daring to fight Miss Chloe for a heart? So what if you’re the true heir? In Mrs. Vance’s heart, Miss Chloe is the only heir of the Vance family. You’ll never take her place.” Because of my mother’s differential treatment, even the nanny in the house could insult me freely. I swallowed the humiliation, bit by bit, and spoke through gritted teeth. “My heart hurts terribly. I’m starting to suffocate. If this continues, I’ll die.” “Let me out quickly… If anything happens to me, Martha won’t let you get away with it!” Mrs. Davies, though opportunistic, understood that I still held some sway with Martha. If I died in the basement, Martha would surely seek justice for me. After much deliberation, Mrs. Davies decided to call my mother. “Mrs. Vance, Lily says her heart is giving out. She’s in excruciating pain. Should we let her out?” My mother sounded a bit confused. “She was fine when we left. How could she be dying now?” After a moment, my mother hesitated. “Why don’t you open the door first and check on her…” I thought I heard hope, but Chloe interrupted my mother, her voice filled with certainty. “The method of using electrode pads to strengthen the heart was something I specifically consulted a foreign specialist about. There’s no way it could go wrong. Mom, if you don’t trust me, don’t you trust a specialist?” Hearing Chloe’s voice, laced with a hint of petulance, my mother panicked a little and quickly reassured her that she believed her. The call continued. When speaking to me, my mother’s voice reverted to its usual coldness. “Lily Vance, you’d better behave yourself!” “She’s just trying to trick you into letting her out so she can go to the hospital and fight Chloe for the donor heart. I’ve already told her I’ll find her another heart. Can’t she even wait that long?” “Besides, I’ve already strengthened her heart according to what the specialist said. What else isn’t she satisfied with? None of you need to pay attention to her. If she wants to fuss, let her fuss.”

With that, my mother hung up on me without a second thought. Mrs. Davies also left, spitting contemptuously before she went. My world became quiet again. I could only hear my own erratic heartbeat. Everything was pitch black. My consciousness felt increasingly blurry. Was I really going to die like this? I didn’t dare to close my eyes, afraid that if I did, I would never open them again. But I didn’t want to die. Clinging to the last shred of my will, I actually managed to hold on until I heard sounds from the basement door again. “Is anyone there… Is someone outside?” “Help me… Please, please help me…” The person outside seemed to hear my plea. They ripped off the rickety padlock on the basement door. By the faint light, I recognized him. It was Mr. Clark, a manager from the Vance family company. Mr. Clark was startled by the metallic scent of blood in the basement and stumbled back a few steps. “Mr. Clark… it’s me…” I struggled to get up, but just as I reached the door, I collapsed heavily again. Mr. Clark quickly helped me up, asking what had happened. I had no strength left to speak, only endless tears streaming down my face. Mr. Clark quickly pulled out his phone and called my mother. “Mrs. Vance, Miss Lily seems to be injured. Please come back and check on her!” My mother’s voice on the other end instantly sounded flustered. “What? Chloe just said she wanted cake and asked me to buy her some. How could something happen to her right after I left? Where is she now?” Hearing my mother’s anxious voice, Mr. Clark continued to explain. “I’m not talking about Miss Chloe. I’m talking about your biological daughter, Miss Lily, who you recently found.” My mother on the other end paused. After confirming that Mr. Clark was only there to deliver some documents to the house and happened to hear my cries for help, she let out a scornful cold laugh. “That brat is getting bolder and bolder, just making up lies on the spot.” “Mr. Clark, leave the documents and go. Lily Vance is perfectly safe in the basement. You don’t need to worry about her.” Although my mother’s indifferent tone left Mr. Clark a bit bewildered, he still called 911 for me before leaving. I was in so much pain I nearly passed out. In a blur, I thought I saw someone lift me into an ambulance. But when I woke up again, I didn’t get the rescue I’d imagined. Instead, the pain in my chest intensified. “Ah…” I couldn’t help but cry out in pain, only then noticing a nurse nearby. “Please, save me… I’m in so much pain…” “If this goes on, I’ll really die…” The nurse looked anxious but hesitated, her words caught in her throat. “I’m so sorry, miss. All our cardiologists are currently assigned to a heart transplant surgery and can’t be spared. Can you please wait a bit longer?” My heart sank. I was in too much pain to speak, so I just gripped the nurse’s hand tightly, tears streaming down my face as I begged her for help. The nurse seemed a little sympathetic. After a moment of hesitation, she comforted me. “Alright, how about this: I’ll go ask the patient’s family next to the operating room if they’d be willing to have a doctor attend to you, okay?” I nodded frantically, hoping God would grant me a single mercy. The patient’s family the nurse mentioned seemed to be right next door. I could clearly hear their conversation. “Mrs. Vance, we have another heart patient who just arrived at the hospital. She seems very ill. Would you mind if we assigned a doctor to treat her?” “Another heart patient? This can’t be delayed. Send two doctors over.”

The nurse thanked her for me, and the person even asked a few questions about my condition. This Mrs. Vance was truly kind-hearted. She was willing to help a stranger. But how could such a kind-hearted woman bear to let her own biological daughter suffer?! I recognized Mrs. Vance’s voice; it was my mother. And the person who made her mobilize all the doctors in the hospital to save them must have been Chloe. My tears fell silently. I shouldn’t have wished for this kind of maternal love. However, with my mother’s instruction, I was quickly wheeled into the private room next to Chloe’s. I heard the doctor making the final pre-surgery confirmation with my mother. “Mrs. Vance, this donor heart was originally Miss Lily Vance’s. Are you sure you want to give it to Miss Chloe Vance?” “Confirmed.” My mother replied, her voice firm and resolute. I should have expected this outcome long ago. Because there was no donor heart for me, the doctor could only give me anesthesia to temporarily stabilize my condition, but this would only cause my heart to rapidly deteriorate. I endured the pain, reaching out to grab the doctor’s sleeve. “My body can’t take any more anesthesia… Please, save me. I can’t hold on…” Facing my plea, the doctor only said helplessly, “Miss, these are all Mrs. Vance’s arrangements.” “Right now, all heart medications must first be given to Mrs. Vance’s daughter. You’ll just have to wait a little longer. Otherwise, if you offend Mrs. Vance, you might not even get the anesthesia.” Despite my sorrow, I knew the most important thing now was to stay alive. I bit down hard on my tongue, the sharp pain instantly clearing my head. “Mom!” “Save me!” Hearing my gut-wrenching screams, the doctor merely sighed softly. “No one can help you now, miss. You just don’t have a mother like Mrs. Vance.” “You really came to the hospital at the wrong time. It just so happens that Mrs. Vance’s daughter is having surgery today, and Mrs. Vance arranged for all the doctors and medications to be moved to avoid any complications.” “But don’t worry. Once Mrs. Vance’s daughter’s surgery is over, you can have your medication.” … I didn’t hear the rest of what the doctor said. I only knew he was recounting my mother’s magnificent maternal love. The ironic thing was, I, her biological daughter, didn’t receive any of that love. Meanwhile, in the other part of the room, Chloe’s surgery had already begun. My mother was afraid Chloe would be scared, so she kept encouraging her. When rejection complications occurred during the surgery, my mother was so anxious she almost cried. “Don’t be scared, Chloe. I am right outside with you.” “Once your surgery is done, I will take you to travel the world and transfer all the company’s assets into your name.” And just one wall away, on the other side, I lay on a cold hospital bed as the anesthesia took effect. I couldn’t speak, only shed helpless tears, feeling my life slowly ebb away. “Heart transplant complete! The surgery was a great success!” The moment the doctor announced Chloe’s successful surgery, my life came to an end. I felt my body lighten, and I floated into Chloe’s operating room. I saw my mother crying with joy, carefully embracing Chloe. “My dear daughter, the surgery was a success. I am so happy.” Everyone around them marveled at my mother and Chloe’s deep mother-daughter bond, yet no one knew. In the dark corner, my mother’s biological daughter had just taken her last breath. After that, I saw my mother take Chloe on a trip to Europe. They ate together, took photos, celebrating Chloe’s new life. And I could only whisper to myself, [Mom, we’ll never see each other again…] It wasn’t until two months later, when my mother returned home and saw my empty room, that she remembered me. She then ordered someone to rush me to the hospital. Mrs. Davies hesitated, her words caught in her throat. “Lily… she’s already dead in the basement.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “384848”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My boyfriend, Ethan Thorne, had a severe hearing impairment. To afford a cochlear implant for him, I worked multiple jobs, sometimes seven a day. But I didn’t mind. All that mattered was for him to be happy, to experience the beauty of the world. Ethan’s first reaction after getting the cochlear implant was to pull me into a passionate embrace, kissing me like there was no tomorrow. He swore he’d be with me for life. Then, two years later, one night after we’d been intimate, I vaguely noticed a black artificial cochlear implant on the bedside table. Ethan, tall and handsome, leaned by the window, a cigarette between his fingers, talking on FaceTime. His friend’s excited, sharp voice came from the other end: “No way, are you really going to marry that cheap commodity? What about Scarlett? She’s coming back in three days…” Ethan’s voice was hoarse from earlier, and he chuckled. “Don’t say that. Ava is mine for now; I haven’t gotten tired of her yet! Once Scarlett is back, I’ll naturally marry her.” I closed my eyes, tears streaming into the pillow, my hands clenched tight. So, the hearing impairment was fake. His love for me was fake. Even wanting to marry me was fake! From the very beginning, I was just a passing amusement for him.

Two minutes later, Ethan stubbed out his cigarette and walked straight towards me, his fingers gently touching the corner of my eye. His voice was deep and husky: “Bad dream?” It was a perfectly normal question, a sign of concern, but it sent shivers down my spine. With a surge of disgust, I slapped his hand away. I abruptly opened my eyes and met his gaze: “You lied to me. You don’t have a hearing impairment at all. Why would you do this?!” Unlike my breakdown, Ethan seemed to have been mentally prepared, as if he’d anticipated this day. “What, you’re not happy that I’m a normal person instead?” Ethan glanced at the artificial cochlear implant on the table, scoffing lightly, as if it were just an irrelevant ornament. “You were the one who got ahead of yourself. You were the one who wanted to make money to buy me a cochlear implant. You never asked for my opinion, not once.” “I’ve played along with you for two years. I’ve done more than enough. Now that we’re dating properly, why dwell on these minor details?” Minor details? I found myself unable to understand the man in front of me, baffled by how he could lie to me and still be so utterly at peace with himself. Back then, I felt so much pity for Ethan’s hearing impairment. He rarely spoke much to others, and to help him regain his confidence, I worked myself to the bone. During those most extreme months, I sometimes worked seven jobs a day, so busy I barely had time to drink water. My best friend, Chloe Green, laughed at me, calling me a hopeless romantic, throwing my health away for a man. I pouted, my eyes filled with concern, and shot back: “You don’t understand how difficult life can be for someone with a disability. I don’t want to see Ethan excluded anymore. I want him to see and hear the beauty of this world!” Later, I successfully bought him the latest cochlear implant. Ethan just smiled at it, then pulled me into his arms, kissing me passionately: “Ava, you’re so good to me. I’ll never betray you in my life!” Recalling the sweet two years we’d spent together, I felt as if hundreds of ants were crawling over me, a chilling sensation washing through my body. Yet the culprit acted as if nothing was wrong, carelessly trampling on my genuine feelings. “It’s my fault for not explaining this misunderstanding sooner. You wouldn’t break up with me over such a small thing, would you?” I opened my mouth in a daze, unable to utter a single word. Ethan was truly skilled at manipulating people. He knew the depth of my love, that I simply couldn’t bear to break up. Seeing my head bowed, my shoulders trembling slightly, a strange flicker of guilt passed through Ethan’s eyes. “Alright, it’s all my fault. I won’t lie to you again, okay?” I was about to press him further about Scarlett from his call, but a frantic phone ring interrupted me. Ethan’s usually composed eyes instantly showed a hint of urgency, an excitement I had never seen before. “Ethan…” I called out his name, but Ethan quickly pulled on his clothes and rushed out the door, tossing over his shoulder: “Work emergency. I won’t be back for dinner!” But I instantly saw through it, recognizing it as a clumsy excuse. His beloved, far away overseas, must have returned. I scoffed at myself, my heart aching with a dull pain.

Getting up, I tossed the artificial cochlear implant from the table into the trash. I looked up at the not-so-large apartment. After Ethan and I officially started dating after graduation, he moved me into this place. It was close to the subway station, convenient for commuting. Whenever I asked about the apartment’s origins, Ethan would always vaguely explain: “It was left by an elderly relative in my family.” But what elderly relative buys a newly renovated, European-style apartment in the city center? It clearly looked like it had been specifically designed by someone. But at the time, my heart was completely consumed by Ethan, and I never noticed these oddities in our relationship. No wonder Ethan, supposedly disabled, could effortlessly intern at a public company right after graduation, even without an interview. No wonder Ethan rarely wore the artificial cochlear implant voluntarily. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for it; it was that he didn’t need it at all. It turned out his entire persona was fake. The hearing impairment was fake, the poor boy identity was fake, and even his love for me and his desire to marry me were fake! I closed my eyes, trying to process the overwhelming grief, remembering his words during the call: “Ava is mine for now; I haven’t gotten tired of her yet!” “Once Scarlett is back, I’ll naturally marry her!” Ethan Thorne, you certainly hid your true colors well! At seven that evening, I packed all my belongings. Since I was determined to leave, I would do so cleanly. My gaze lingered on every corner of the apartment: the couple’s mugs we bought together, the matching slippers, the potted plant we spent two hours choosing… Memories were like a cruel hand, squeezing my throat, making it hard to breathe. Just then, the front door burst open, and Scarlett Davis’s beautiful, striking face appeared before me: “Who are you, and why are you in *our* home?” *Our home*. Those two words hit me hard, and it took me a few seconds to process them. Scarlett quickly let out a cold laugh, her perfectly manicured nail pointing directly at my cheek. “Oh, I remember now. You’re the little side chick Ethan told me he’d marry just to spite me?” “Looks like his taste is pretty mediocre!” I ignored Scarlett’s mockery, grabbed her provocatively pointing finger, and flung it away: “I’m not his side chick. I’m the girlfriend he publicly acknowledged. You, on the other hand, are the one intruding here, aren’t you?” Hearing this, Scarlett immediately frowned, a hint of malice in her eyes. She gave a small laugh, then deliberately twisted her ankle, crashing against the shoe cabinet with a pained yelp. Ethan, carrying bags, walked in to this scene. Scarlett leaned on the floor, holding her waist, her face contorted in pain, tears welling up in her eyes. I instinctively tried to explain, but Ethan’s hand flew out, slapping me across the face. My lip stung terribly, feeling as if it might split open. “Scarlett just got back from overseas, do you really have to be so cruel to her?!” “Don’t you know Scarlett injured her spine while dancing? She can’t take any bumps. Are you trying to make her permanently disabled?!” Ethan’s words were incredibly harsh, making me sound like some heinous villain. But he knew I would never intentionally harm anyone, yet he believed Scarlett’s one-sided story. “I didn’t! I didn’t even touch her!” Scarlett immediately spoke up, cutting off my explanation, her voice innocent and pitiful: “Perhaps your girlfriend doesn’t welcome me here. I should just go stay somewhere else. I won’t bother you two anymore…” “And you don’t need to worry about my work back home. I overstepped my bounds!” Hearing this, Ethan’s heart instantly tightened. He immediately pulled Scarlett into an embrace, comforting her, his eyes overflowing with tenderness: “Scarlett, this apartment was ours together. It’s your home too. How could you leave me, leave this place…” Then, Ethan coldly looked at me, issuing a direct eviction notice: “Ava Miller, you don’t need to stay here anymore. Move to a hotel. I’ll cover the expenses!” I forced a smile. So, one word from Scarlett, and I no longer even had the right to live here. Coincidentally, I had no intention of staying either! I wiped the tears from my eyes, dragging my two suitcases towards the door. As I passed, Ethan frowned and looked at me, seeming to want to say something. But Scarlett’s cry of pain interrupted him.

The city night was truly cold. Dragging my two large suitcases, I shivered, sneezing several times in a row. Ethan used to be so afraid of me getting cold. Whenever the weather changed, he wouldn’t let me go out in the wind. Now, Ethan hadn’t even called once. After checking into a hotel with my ID, I started looking for a new place to rent. Just then, I received an anonymous video. In the video, Scarlett was tugging on Ethan’s tie, their lips intertwined, her face flushed. She suddenly picked up the black artificial cochlear implant from the trash can, as if she’d found something amusing, and laughed: “Ethan Thorne, you’re playing quite the game behind my back, pretending to be deaf?” Ethan disdainfully glanced at the dirty cochlear implant, took it from her hand, and tossed it away, continuing to kiss her. He responded softly to Scarlett’s words: “Just messing with her. Who told her to take it seriously… I find that thing disgusting!” My breathing hitched instantly. I could only hear the frantic pounding of my heart. So, the thousand-dollar cochlear implant I worked so hard to buy for him was, in his eyes, just a disgusting piece of trash! I clutched my chest, trying to alleviate the discomfort, my breathing becoming labored. Just then, my grandmother Rose called me, asking with a smile: “My dear Ava, when are you and Ethan coming back? I have prepared some wine for you both!” Since my parents died in a car accident, my grandmother Rose had become my only pillar of emotional support. I visited her several times a year. It used to be just me; then, Ethan started coming with me. I didn’t know how to face Rose, so I remained silent for a moment. Rose was still grinning from ear to ear, chattering away: “Ethan said he’s going to marry you this year! I’ll make sure to take my medicine and stay healthy so I can take the bus to your wedding… Oh, my, it’s not easy for an old country woman like me to come to the city!” With every word Rose said, I felt more ashamed. I quickly hung up the phone, unable to face her anymore. I blocked the anonymous account that sent the video and warned Scarlett: **\[Ethan and I are over. You don’t need to provoke me.\]** That day, I remembered leaving something behind at Ethan’s apartment and took a ride there to retrieve it. I bumped right into Ethan as he was leaving. Looking up, I saw several hickeys on his neck, clearly left by Scarlett. Ethan frowned and grabbed my wrist, demanding to know why I hadn’t replied to his messages these past few days. I ignored him. “My mom said we’re having dinner at home this week to discuss wedding plans.” I laughed, looking at him, perplexed: “Aren’t you going to marry Scarlett Davis? Why are you telling me this? Do you need me to participate in your wedding too?” Ethan looked down at me, annoyance flashing across his brow: “My mom doesn’t like Scarlett. I won’t have a public wedding with her. Our engagement still stands; I won’t go back on my word to you.” *Slap!* I slapped him. His brazen words made me want to laugh in fury. “Ethan Thorne, the moment you lied to me, we were over!” “I’m not a tool for you and Scarlett to flirt with, nor am I a shield for your affair!” “The engagement is off. I won’t marry you. Let’s go our separate ways from now on!” Ethan gave me a strange look, then chuckled twice: “Ava Miller, don’t be so jealous. I’m not kidding. Besides my heart, I can give you everything else — the title, the status!” “Don’t make a fuss. My mom has already had someone calculate the wedding date. It’s next month!” “You wouldn’t want your only living relative to be disappointed, would you?” It was another naked threat and manipulation. Ethan had calculated that I couldn’t leave him and wouldn’t bear to disappoint Rose. I was practically boiling with rage, feeling utterly desperate.

Ethan used Rose’s health as leverage, forcing me to continue playing the role of his loving fiancée to reassure his mother. “Ava, my dear, among all the girls Ethan knows, you’re the one I trust the most. You two must get married smoothly and stay together for life!” Mrs. Thorne’s words exhausted me, but I felt powerless. For the next month, Ethan treated me with the same meticulous care and tenderness as before, accompanying me to try on wedding dresses and engagement rings. Looking at the sparkling diamond ring on my finger, I couldn’t help but sneer: “Ethan Thorne, your sincerity isn’t worth a thing. Aren’t you afraid Scarlett will go crazy if she finds out about all this?” A flicker of something crossed Ethan’s eyes when he heard Scarlett’s name. He brushed a strand of hair from my face and said indifferently: “I’ll calm Scarlett down. She won’t get jealous like you. You just need to play the part of a happy bride!” Sometimes, I truly hated Ethan’s cruelty, yet occasionally, I would find myself uncontrollably drawn into this vortex of tenderness. I couldn’t tell if Ethan had ever felt a shred of genuine affection for me. As the wedding day approached, Rose became noticeably more excited. She couldn’t sleep at night, whispering to me on the phone: “I’m old now. My only wish is to see you get married and have children. I’m so happy you found someone you love…” “I’ve never seen you look so happy and content. Only Ethan, that boy, makes me feel truly at ease!” Listening to Rose’s rambling, I suddenly couldn’t bear to tell her the truth. It was just a wedding, I thought, a way to fulfill her last wish. I thought naively, never expecting Scarlett Davis’s breakdown and jealousy to be so fierce. That day, as I left work, someone forcibly dragged me into the underground parking garage. Scarlett slapped me twice across the face, raging uncontrollably: “Ava Miller, you’re truly shameless. Ethan doesn’t love you at all, yet you still cling to him!” “Do you think by stealing my place, you can become Mrs. Thorne?!” “I’m telling you, I will never allow anyone to threaten my position. Just you wait, I absolutely won’t let you off easy!” Scarlett’s words made my heart clench, and I couldn’t help but retort mockingly: “The one insisting on marrying me is Ethan. If you’re so capable, why don’t you make his whole family change their minds?” “Oh, right. Mrs. Thorne doesn’t think much of your fickle and untrustworthy nature!” Scarlett’s face turned red with fury, her eyes practically spitting fire. She clenched her fists and said viciously: “Then just you wait and see!” The day before the wedding, Scarlett sent me a strange set of numbers. They looked vaguely familiar. By the time I tried to ask her about them, she had already blocked me. On the wedding day, I felt something was off, a persistent unease in my heart. Ethan was still playing the part of the perfect lover, just as before, putting the ring on my finger and kissing my lips in front of everyone. For a moment, I actually thought we had returned to the past, back to when he still loved me. Suddenly, my phone vibrated a few times. It was an unknown number, and on the other end, I heard Rose’s voice. Scarlett must have said something to Rose, because I heard Rose’s hurried breathing, followed by sounds of them pushing and arguing. I frowned and said “Hello,” but no one replied. I just dismissed it as a minor interruption. Suddenly, a panic erupted outside the wedding venue. Someone shouted: “Someone fell from a height!” My heart pounded erratically. I felt a dizzy spell and ran desperately to check. Ethan also rushed over. However, the person lying on the ground, in excruciating pain, was Scarlett Davis. What was going on?! Ethan, looking distraught, rushed downstairs from the second floor, embracing Scarlett, his eyes bloodshot. Scarlett cried out: “Ethan, save me! Ava and her grandma conspired to kill me!” Hearing Rose’s voice, I frantically ran over. I saw her lying at the corner of the staircase, gasping for air, her face pale, with several scratches on her body. “Ava…” I strained to hear, but Rose’s breathing was faint, almost in shock. Crying, I shouted for help, calling out to Ethan: “Ethan Thorne, quickly, call for a car! My grandmother is in critical condition!” “Ethan Thorne, I beg you, please come and save my grandmother! I promise I’ll be obedient forever!” The only response was Ethan’s voice, filled with utter disgust: “Ava Miller, you and your grandma used schemes to make Scarlett fall and break her leg. I will make you pay for this!” Ethan carried Scarlett and rushed to the hospital, ordering everyone present not to call an ambulance for me. Holding my grandmother’s gradually cooling body, I suddenly seemed to realize something. A heartbreaking cry escaped me: “Rose!” Ethan’s footsteps paused slightly ahead, then he scoffed. “Ava Miller, your acting is too clumsy. I won’t fall for it again!”

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My husband, Liam, had barely been involved in our family life for the nine years we’d been married. He never celebrated our anniversary, never celebrated our daughter Lily’s birthday. Every time I confronted him, he’d self-righteously claim he was busy working for our family, even accusing me of being unreasonable. It wasn’t until my mom’s funeral that he was absent again. But this time, I didn’t cry or make a scene. I even explained for him, “He’s busy making money for Lily and me.” Everyone said we were a loving couple, little did they know my husband didn’t love me at all. When he claimed to be busy, he was actually with his best friend’s fiancée. On my daughter’s birthday, he was traveling with her. On our anniversary, he lit fireworks for her birthday. At my mom’s funeral, he was with her, trying on wedding dresses. In my previous life, after I discovered the truth, I hysterically confronted them, crushing that woman’s ego underfoot. What I got in return was my mom’s grave being desecrated, my dad falsely accused of sexual assault, and my daughter labeled an illegitimate child. Later, my husband even meticulously engineered a car crash, ensuring we’d never rest in peace. So this time around, I don’t want that scumbag. I just want him to pay for what he did.

“Liam, if Scarlett finds out you’re here trying on wedding dresses with me, won’t she be upset? I heard it’s Scarlett’s mom’s funeral today…” Chloe’s voice in the video carried a hint of guilt. Liam quickly comforted her. “It’s fine. Ethan is gone, and I’ll make up for what he owed you. After all, I was Ethan’s best friend! And don’t worry, Scarlett understands everything. Besides, it’s her mom who died; my presence there doesn’t matter.” “Oh, thank you, Liam.” Chloe hugged Liam tightly. The video ended abruptly there. I knew Chloe had sent this video. Just like in my previous life, she knew exactly how to provoke me. But I wouldn’t be like my old self anymore. I simply replied, [“Don’t worry. I know you’re grieving Ethan’s death. I told Liam to go be with you. I won’t be angry.”] Then I sent a screenshot of the message to Liam, [“Liam, please take good care of Chloe. Tell her not to worry.”] After that, I didn’t look at my phone again. After finishing my mom’s funeral arrangements, my dad looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. I forced a faint smile. “Dad, you should resign.” My dad paused, then, as if something clicked, nodded quickly. “Okay, I’ll take care of it as soon as possible and then leave. You two should hurry too.” “Mm.” We tacitly avoided mentioning the reincarnation. After parting ways, I took Lily home. I hadn’t expected Liam to be home. He looked flustered when he saw me. “Scarlett, don’t misunderstand, I just feared Chloe would be sad, so I…” “I get it. It’s hard enough for you to earn money and support Lily and me. Ethan was your best friend, and he died because of you, so it’s only right for you to take care of his fiancée.” “Scarlett, you…” Liam stared at me in disbelief. Yes, his suspicion was right. After all, in my previous life, I absolutely loathed Chloe. Even when Ethan was alive, I never liked Chloe. I always felt there was something Chloe was after by being with Ethan, but Liam would say I was just jealous. “Just because Chloe is prettier than you, you claim she’s manipulative? Scarlett, you really disappoint me.” That was our first argument over Chloe. “Scarlett, you’re really not angry?” Liam pressed again. I nodded. “Nope.” Seeing that I didn’t seem to be faking it, Liam breathed a sigh of relief. I took the opportunity to slip the divorce papers in with some insurance documents and had him sign them. Perhaps out of guilt, Liam signed without even looking. And as I watched him sign the divorce papers, my eyes were filled with hatred. Liam, since you didn’t hesitate to kill our entire family for that woman in your previous life, this time, I’ll make sure you get what you deserve. I want to see what he’ll choose: money or that woman. After that, Liam behaved remarkably well, even volunteering to take Lily to school. But I didn’t expect Chloe to lose her patience.

That evening, after Liam picked up Lily, he didn’t return for a long time. No matter how many times I called, he didn’t answer. Scared, I rushed out to look for them. But as I opened the door, I saw Liam. His face was dark. Not seeing Lily, I was about to ask when Liam’s hand struck my face. “Scarlett, I actually thought you were truly understanding. I can’t believe you lied to me! Inciting our daughter to target Chloe, do you think that’s clever?” I didn’t know what had happened, but it wasn’t hard to guess it was all Chloe’s doing. “I didn’t.” But Liam didn’t believe a word I said. When I asked him where Lily was, he just snorted. “If she messes up, she has to face the consequences.” My heart clenched. Liam shot me a scathing look. To pacify him, I said no more, just apologized. Liam’s attitude softened, and he told me to apologize to Chloe. So I went. She pretended to be terrified, hiding behind Liam. In the end, I had to kneel in the pouring rain all night before Liam’s anger finally subsided. After taking Lily home, I finally understood what had happened. I couldn’t believe Chloe would scheme against such a small child. Lily said that when Liam picked her up, Chloe was already in the car. Then, before Lily knew it, Chloe started complaining that she felt unwell and something about allergies. Liam immediately concluded that Lily had deliberately caused Chloe’s allergic reaction. Seeing my daughter’s swollen, tear-filled eyes, my heart ached. At that moment, my desire to kill them both reached its peak. Afterward, Liam didn’t come home, staying with Chloe to comfort her. I, on the other hand, enjoyed the peace. But I didn’t expect him to return with Chloe in tow. “Chloe was living in the apartment she used to rent with Ethan. Now she keeps seeing reminders of him there. You see, our house is so big; one more person won’t make a difference.” Liam wasn’t asking for my opinion; he was informing me. I didn’t speak, just looked at Chloe. By now, all the neighbors knew that Liam had brought his best friend’s fiancée home to take care of her. They showered him with praise. “Exactly, Ethan was so lucky to have a brother like Mr. Sterling!” Even Chloe nodded along. “Yes, I’m so grateful to Mr. Sterling these past few days. If it weren’t for him, I don’t know if I’d still be alive.” When Chloe cried, Liam tenderly pulled her into a hug. But he seemed to forget this was our home, and he was my husband. The onlookers were stunned too. As soon as Liam realized his mistake, he quickly released Chloe. “Scarlett, you take care of Chloe for a moment. I’m going to visit Ethan’s grave.” The next moment, Liam kissed my forehead. “Thank you, Scarlett.” Now, no one around said another word. I was almost sickened by him but managed to maintain my gentle, understanding demeanor. Liam gave Chloe a reluctant look before turning and leaving. After Liam left, Lily looked at me, confused. “Mom, does she really have to stay here? I don’t like her.” I didn’t know how to explain about rebirth to Lily. When I first came back, Lily had cried in my arms for a long time. She said, “Mom, I had a nightmare. Daddy was with Aunt Chloe, and because of Aunt Chloe, Daddy killed us. I was so scared…” It took a lot of coaxing, but I finally calmed Lily down. But from that moment on, she stopped being close to Liam. Before, if he missed her birthday, I wouldn’t even need to get angry; Lily would ignore him for days. Before Chloe showed up, our entire family was the most important thing to Liam. Liam would fight thugs for me, and even when a thug asked him, “Only one of you can live, who do you choose?” He chose me without hesitation, saying, “It doesn’t matter if I live or not, but my wife must live.” When I had a difficult labor giving birth to Lily, he said, “Scarlett, no more children.” That day, Liam became the talk of the hospital. The entire hospital was buzzing, “There’s a husband in the obstetrics department who cried until he passed out because he saw his wife in labor pain.”

See, men, when they truly love you, they really do. But when they stop loving you, they really stop. Liam once said, “Scarlett, my parents left me early, so your parents are my parents.” But later, because of that woman Chloe, he personally killed our entire family. So now, Liam deserves to die even more than Chloe. “Lily, do you remember what Mom told you?” My daughter nodded innocently. I smiled. “Then listen to Mom. Don’t show that you dislike Aunt Chloe. Soon, Mom and Grandpa will take you away, okay?” “Okay.” Lily was very well-behaved and didn’t say another word. Meanwhile, my dad sent me a message. He had already resigned and would be ready to leave in two weeks. With the divorce papers and evidence of Liam’s infidelity, my lawyer said we could get divorced in less than half a month. The agreement stipulated that Liam would leave with nothing. I knew that killing Liam to avenge us from the previous life would be too easy a punishment for him. I had to make Liam know what true misery felt like. No sooner had he left than Chloe dropped her act. The sweet innocent facade in front of Liam, but in front of me, she was a snarling vixen. “Scarlett Sterling, I really underestimated you. Liam is being so obvious, and you still won’t divorce him?” Meeting Chloe’s eyes, which looked like she wanted to devour me alive, I couldn’t help but smile. So desperate to take my place, huh? Fine, I’ll help you get there. Just before Liam and Chloe walked in, I had already secured the most crucial evidence. These two were truly vicious. Liam was right about one thing: Ethan had indeed saved his life. But Liam had personally killed Ethan. “Scarlett, if I were you, I’d have already killed myself.” “Really? The woman who hooked up with her fiancé’s best friend hasn’t killed herself, so why should I?” I didn’t hold back with Chloe. Since Liam wasn’t here, there was no need for me to pretend anymore. We stood there, staring at each other with daggers drawn, for a long time, until the housekeeper had packed all of Chloe’s things. Watching her belongings being moved into the master bedroom, I didn’t say a word. Anyway, I was leaving soon. If she wanted to be with that scumbag, she could. I certainly wouldn’t let that dog near me. That evening, Lily and I were having dinner when Chloe suddenly screamed upstairs. At the same moment, the front door opened, and Liam walked in. But he didn’t even glance at us, going straight upstairs. A moment later, Liam stormed down to me. Seeing his agitated state, I quickly shielded Lily behind me. The next moment, Liam’s hands clamped around my neck. “Scarlett, I can’t believe you’d play such games with me!” Meeting Liam’s eyes, which looked like they wanted to devour me, I felt myself struggling to breathe. I desperately slapped at Liam’s arms, but he didn’t budge. It wasn’t until Lily started crying at my side that he finally threw me to the floor. “Mommy…” Lily cried, hugging me tightly. I hadn’t felt too bad initially, but seeing Lily like this, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. “Scarlett, you’re the one who let Chloe stay in the master bedroom. Why did you deliberately put a knife on the bed? Are you trying to kill her?” Hearing that, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Me? Put a knife?” “Isn’t that right?” “Then let’s check the surveillance footage.” No sooner had I spoken than Chloe, who was crying by the staircase, instantly changed color. “You—you installed surveillance in the master bedroom?” “It’s my house. Can’t I install cameras wherever I want?” My counter-question instantly shut Chloe up. “Fine, I want to see how malicious you are.” Liam said, heading towards the monitoring room, but Chloe stopped him. “Liam, I’m fine, don’t argue with Scarlett because of me.” Chloe said a lot, and Liam listened tenderly, not forgetting to add, “Scarlett, you should really learn a thing or two from Chloe.” I watched the two of them, expressionless, and almost gagged. But I held it in. Nothing else happened that night, except Liam stayed in Chloe’s room.

After that, I ignored Liam and Chloe’s open displays of affection. Outwardly, I was subservient to Liam, and even spoke highly of Chloe. Sometimes, I would even act quite pathetic. Liam saw it all. His guilt towards me grew daily, and now his gaze towards me had softened. Sometimes, because of me, he would even disregard some of Chloe’s demands. Chloe gradually realized I was doing this on purpose, so she started to act even more. Of course, what Chloe did most was falsely accuse me. However, having been reborn, I was already well-versed in her tricks. She tried to frame me for pushing her, so I made sure to injure myself. She’d be on the floor, and I’d be lying in a pool of my own blood. What could Liam say when he saw me covered in blood? He would rush me to the hospital, and each time, Chloe would stomp her foot in frustration. And while alone with Liam in the hospital, I would play him recordings of Chloe’s provocative words. Then I’d gently take his hand and say, “Liam, I know Chloe is like this because Ethan died. I don’t blame her, and please don’t bother her, okay? She’s really had it rough.” “Lily and I are fine. We’ll help her get through this.” My appearance, swallowing my grievances with red-rimmed eyes, completely drew Liam’s heart back to my side. As soon as I was discharged from the hospital, he pulled me in, clearly wanting to be intimate. It scared me, and I quickly made some noise. Sure enough, within three seconds, Chloe burst in. “Liam, I feel unwell. Can you take me to the hospital?” “Call a driver.” Liam was annoyed at being interrupted when things were heating up, and his expression towards Chloe was already sour. Chloe instantly looked heartbroken. As his wife, I expressed understanding. “It’s okay, you go with Chloe to the hospital. If Ethan saw us neglecting her from up above, he’d be upset.” When I mentioned Ethan, Liam, though still annoyed, got out of bed. A minute later, the car drove out of the villa. I watched them leave from the balcony before going to Lily’s room. Lily was already ready. She looked at me with a smile. “Mommy, can we go now?” I nodded. I’d endured for half a month; it was time to leave. For the past two weeks, I’d had to tolerate Chloe’s provocations and the strange looks from everyone around us. No one knew what I’d gone through. But I knew the time for blood for blood had come. When Lily and I arrived at the airport, my dad was already there. Before boarding, Liam sent me a message: [“Chloe’s situation is a bit complicated, you go to sleep first, don’t wait for me.”] Seeing the message, I couldn’t help but smile. Such a good actor. He probably still had no idea how smoothly Chloe and I had been communicating behind his back. Just moments ago, Chloe had also sent me a message: [“Liam is mine tonight.”] It was accompanied by a video of the two of them together in bed. I didn’t reply to their messages, but I did something else. After finishing my operation, I turned off my phone. At that moment, I felt completely liberated. The next moment, Liam, who was currently occupied, received a call from his assistant. “You better have a good reason.” “Mr. Sterling, you need to check the company’s official website right away.” After the assistant spoke, Liam impatiently opened the website. With just one glance, his face turned ashen. “No, this is impossible.”

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