Author: Momo Chan

I spent five years supporting my paralyzed wife. I poured every cent I had into her physical therapy, nursing her back to health so she could walk again and reclaim her place in high society. My reward? Her revenge. “Don’t you dare call me your wife,” she had hissed into my ear, her voice dripping with disgust. “Every single day I spent with you made me gag.” To cover up a high-society scandal, her family had me beaten within an inch of my life. As I lay gasping in my own blood, she turned on her heel, walked onto a glittering stage at a press conference, and went public with her childhood sweetheart—the true love of her life. The crowd cheered, bestowing their blessings upon the golden couple. Overnight, I became the ultimate punchline. Everyone waited in breathless anticipation to watch me break. Except they didn’t know one thing: the severe brain trauma from the beating erased every single memory I had of her. I didn’t care about her anymore, because to me, she was a total stranger. It wasn’t until she realized I had truly forgotten her that her icy pride crumbled. She dropped to her knees, sobbing, begging me for a second chance. 1 Down in the reeking dampness of the alley storm drain, Trey’s fist slammed into my ribs like a sledgehammer. But when agony crosses a certain threshold, the mind simply detaches. My nerves were burnt out; my body was nothing more than meat reacting on pure reflex. Trey was Hedy’s golden boy, her eternal crush. And me? I was nothing. A ghost she was eager to exorcise. Trey grabbed my jaw, landing another brutal punch across my cheekbone. “Look at you, Harry. Did you really think a pathetic zero like you was worthy of putting his hands on my fiancée?” I clamped my teeth together, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a groan. But then he signaled his two hired heavies. They grabbed my arms, twisting them backward with cold, mechanical precision. “Snap. Snap.” Two sickening cracks echoed in the enclosed concrete space. My arms gave out, completely useless. Cold sweat trickled into the corner of my mouth, metallic and sour. I forced my eyes open, glaring at him through a swell of red bruised flesh. “No matter what you do… Hedy is my wife.” Trey didn’t get angry. He burst into a cruel, breathless laugh. “You actually believed she loved you? You absolute fool. You were just a pawn she used to lay low while her family fought over the inheritance!” The words sliced deeper than any fist. Hedy’s face flashed through my mind—the woman I had spent five desperate years caring for. I remembered watching the live stream from my phone just hours ago, seeing her glowing under the flashbulbs, kissing Trey in front of a dozen reporters as they officially announced their engagement. A quiet, suffocating ache bloomed in my chest. He was right. Physical agony was nothing compared to the slow death of a shattered heart. The beatings continued. My arms were already ruined, so they moved on to my legs. By the time they were finished, they dragged my broken, contorted body and dumped me into the open sewer trench nearby. Foul, stagnant water rushed into my nose and mouth. As I sank into the filth, Hedy’s parting words echoed through my fading consciousness: “Every single day I spent with you made me gag.” A dark, self-deprecating smile touched my cracked lips as I lay dying in the sludge. The soft-spoken, tender woman I thought I knew… the wife I had cherished… this was how she had viewed me all along. Five years ago, I found Hedy abandoned and paralyzed. I spent every penny of my savings getting her medical care, working double shifts day and night just to cover her prescriptions and physical therapy. I pushed myself so hard I developed severe stomach ulcers that bled into cancer, relying on daily medication just to stay alive. Then, five years later, her memory magically returned. She vanished, reappearing as the long-lost heiress to the multimillion-dollar Livingston empire. I thought my sacrifices had finally paid off. But at her grand homecoming gala, Trey stood up and publicly accused me of kidnapping her. I tried to explain, but Hedy didn’t say a word to defend me. Instead, she retreated into Trey’s arms, trembling like a helpless victim. She slipped into her old lover’s embrace so naturally. She watched in silence as her rabid fans and security beat me unconscious right outside the venue. And finally, Trey snapped my limbs and threw me into this dark ditch to rot. How absurd. For five long years, I had washed her clothes, brushed her hair, wiped her clean, and carried her from room to room. On days when we were so broke we couldn’t even afford eggs, she would smile gently and push her half-eaten bowl of rice toward me. The moment her legs healed, everything changed. Human heart strings are fragile things; put enough pressure on them, and they snap completely. The icy water sapped the last bit of warmth from my skin. My eyelids grew impossibly heavy. “If I could just forget all of this,” I thought, a second before the darkness swallowed me whole, “maybe it wouldn’t hurt so bad.” … Perhaps God took pity on my miserable existence. When I finally opened my eyes, I was lying in a sterile, sunlit hospital room. Before I could even process where I was, the heavy wooden door burst open with a deafening bang. Hedy and Trey stormed in. Seeing me propped up on the bed, Hedy’s brow furrowed in immediate irritation. Her voice was sharp, coated in icy condescension. “Harry, are you doing this on purpose?” she demanded, crossing her arms. “Was the press conference not enough of a disaster for you? Do you have any idea what people are saying? The entire city is laughing, claiming the great Livingston heiress lowered herself to marry a dirt-poor nobody!” She stepped closer, her eyes flashing with venom. “If Trey hadn’t acted fast and played along to spin the story, my family would have disowned me by now! And you have the nerve to call me, whining that Trey beat you up? Do you think I’m blind?” Trey feigned a nonchalant wave of his hand, putting on a show of magnanimity. “It’s fine, Hedy. He didn’t mean it. He’s just having a hard time letting you go—after all, you two share a lot of history.” He walked over to my bedside, wearing the fake, polite smile of a predator. He placed a heavy hand firmly onto my broken shoulder, squeezing down just enough to inflict agonizing pressure. “If you ask me, Harry, you should just apologize to Hedy. What do you say?” He smiled sweetly, but the malice in his grip was suffocating. He thought he had me completely under his thumb. I stared at him, feeling nothing but a profound, cold detachment. Reaching up with my uninjured hand, I slapped his arm away. “Who the hell are you people?” I said, my voice flat. “Get out before I call security.” 2 Hedy froze for a fraction of a second. Then, her face contorted in rage, and she stepped forward, her palm cracking hard across my cheek. “Call security?” she sneered. “Have you not humiliated me enough?” She leaned in, her voice shaking with disgust. “And “‘who are you?’” Really, Harry? Is this your new game? You realize you screwed up big time and almost ruined my family’s reputation, so now you’re pretending to have amnesia to avoid taking responsibility? I was completely blind to ever marry a coward like you!” Beside her, Trey let out a smug, quiet chuckle before quickly adopting a look of fake remorse. “Hedy, to be honest… he doesn’t look like he’s acting. What if I went a little too heavy-handed earlier? It’s all my fault…” I looked at Trey’s passive-aggressive, villainous routine and felt an overwhelming wave of nausea. Who was this guy? A grown man pulling a pathetic, snake-like damsel act right in front of me. Losing the last shred of my patience, I looked at them coldly. “If neither of you has anything intelligent to say, please leave. I don’t know you.” Hedy scoffed, her lip curling in bitter amusement. “Still playing games? I don’t have time for your drama, Harry. Don’t think for a second that faking memory loss is going to make me forgive you. Get this through your head: you are forbidden from showing your face anywhere near me for the next few months. Otherwise, I’m filing for divorce!” I stared at her as if she were an escaped patient from the psychiatric ward next door. Just as I reached for the call button to summon a nurse, Hedy’s phone chimed. She glanced at the screen and answered immediately. “Hello? The exclusive interview? Yes, we’re on our way right now.” So she was finally leaving. Good. I pulled my hand back from the call button. Hedy caught my distant stare, her tone softening just a fraction into condescending pity. “Trey and I are doing a live studio broadcast today. Not that you’d understand any of that high-society media stuff anyway. Just stay put, Harry. Trey and I will drop by to check on you tomorrow.” She grabbed Trey’s arm, and the two of them hurried out the door. I sat back against the pillows, frowning. She clearly knew my name. But before I could wrap my brain around it, the door creaked open again. A tall, slender figure stood on the threshold. My heart skipped a beat. 3 “Leona…?” She walked into the room wearing a simple white dress, looking just as refined and delicate as she had five years ago. Leona was my high school sweetheart, my first love. We had spent seven years together in a relationship everyone thought would end at the altar. But the world wasn’t a fairy tale. Her father, the chairman of the massive Winslow Group, looked down on a poor kid like me. He used every resource at his disposal to send Leona overseas, forcing an ocean between us. We hadn’t spoken since. Yet standing here now, it felt as though she knew everything that had happened to me. Leona sat down quietly in the chair beside my bed. She took a deep breath, her eyes brimming with a terrifying mix of sorrow and tender affection. “How long were you going to keep ruining yourself, Harry?” she whispered softly. Then, she told me everything. And as the words left her lips, a part of me wished I had never asked. I was suffering from traumatic, selective amnesia. The woman who had just walked out wasn’t a stranger or a lunatic—she was Hedy, my wife of five years. The man holding her hand was Trey, her high-society ex-fiancé. For five years, I had nearly worked myself into an early grave to care for Hedy, destroying my own health in the process. It had been a week since the beatings outside her gala left me broken and bloody in a storm drain. But the most sickening truth was the revelation of what I had actually been to her: a disposable shield. When the Livingston family fell into an ugly internal war over their massive fortune, Hedy faked her paralysis and went into hiding to escape the crossfire. Once the dust settled and the power was secured, she miraculously ‘recovered’ her health, returned to her family, and reclaimed her throne. I was nothing more than collateral damage she left in the dirt. Leona’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she gently surveyed the bruises and casts covering my body. The deep care in her gaze was undeniable. After years apart, we sat in profound silence, but a soft, quiet wave rippled through the stillness between us. “In a couple of days, I’m transferring you to a top-tier private facility,” Leona said gently, breaking the silence. “Once you’re fully healed, I want you to come work at my firm.” I blinked, caught off guard. From her explanation, I realized how many career opportunities I had thrown away over the last five years for Hedy’s sake. Leona ran an international firm abroad; knowing my financial struggles, she had offered me a spot multiple times in the past. Every single time, I had turned her down because I couldn’t leave Hedy behind. Yet here she was, offering a life raft to a man who had absolutely nothing left. “Okay,” I said quietly. “I’ll do it.” I had lost every memory of Hedy, and my recollections of the last five years were a fractured mess. This was a second chance—a clean slate to start over far away from this nightmare. Hedy didn’t need me anymore, and frankly, I owed her nothing. A soft, radiant smile broke across Leona’s face. She stayed in the room for hours, keeping me company until late in the evening. Not long after Leona left, Hedy returned. She swept into the room draped in flashy, head-to-toe designer labels, holding Trey’s hand. The moment she stepped over the threshold, she pinched her nose with one hand and fanned the air frantically with the other. “God, why does it smell so terrible in here?” Hedy whined, her face contorted in disgust. “Harry, have you not showered in a week? The chairman of our charitable foundation is coming to tour the ward the Livingston family funded. How are we supposed to host guests when you’ve turned this place into a barn?” She glanced back and forth between Trey and me, her lips curling into a sneer. “Look at Trey, then look at yourself. I’ve never met anyone as dirty as you.” Trey waved his hand with mock humility. “Come on, Hedy, everyone has their own lifestyle choices. Maybe he thinks smelling like this makes him look more masculine. Don’t be too hard on him.” Neither of them seemed to care—or even notice—that I was pinned to the bed, immobilized by heavy casts and monitor wires. I suddenly remembered what Leona had told me earlier. When Hedy was paralyzed, I had bathed her, washed her clothes, and changed her bedsheets up to five times a day. I had handled every degrading detail of her care with my own hands so she would never feel stripped of her dignity. Now, the tables were turned. Not only was I left without care, but my basic human dignity was being trampled into the mud. Hedy pulled a takeout container from a bag and set it on the bedside table. “Here. Trey and I bought this specifically for you.” I glanced inside. It was a box of dry, cold rice paired with a dish swimming in bright red, blindingly hot chili oil. I had just come out of major surgery. I wasn’t even allowed to eat solid rice, let alone spicy food. I was on a strict liquid diet. Leona had mentioned how I used to spend hours in the kitchen for Hedy. To ensure she got proper nutrition while bedridden, I had enrolled in a professional culinary nutrition course, studying for an entire year just to cook customized, stomach-soothing meals for her every single day. And this was how she treated me when I was the one lying in a hospital bed. It didn’t matter anymore. We were strangers now, and our paths would never cross again after today. “I can’t eat spicy food,” I said, my voice flat and lifeless. Hedy froze. In the past, whenever she brought me anything, I would have been overwhelmed with gratitude. I expected her to fly into a rage. But instead, her eyes drifted down to the maze of IV lines, monitors, and heavy bindings wrapped around my body. A long sigh escaped her lips. “Fine,” she muttered, her voice dropping slightly. “I’ll go buy you something else.” 4 Once Hedy walked out, Trey dropped his polite facade instantly. A smirk played on his lips as he stepped closer to my bed. “You don’t seriously think she’s going to stay with a pathetic cripple like you, do you?” he sneered quietly. “Dream on, man.” I stared up at the ceiling, ignoring him completely. I just wanted these bizarre, toxic strangers out of my room. My silence only infuriated him further. He walked over to the washbasin, filled a metal bowl with scalding hot water, and brought it back to the table. Steam billowed off the surface. “Acting all high and mighty, huh?” Trey growled, his voice dropping into a vicious whisper. “Let’s see how tough you are when I burn that arrogant look right off your face.” He grabbed both of my healing, broken hands and forced them down toward the boiling water. A surge of blinding pain shot straight through my nervous system, making my internal organs tremble. Summoning every ounce of adrenaline left in my body, I violently jerked my arms back. The heavy metal bowl flipped, crashing to the floor and spilling steaming water everywhere just as Hedy walked back through the door. “Harry! What the hell are you doing?!” she shrieked. Trey immediately crumpled into a posture of bruised innocence, clutching his hand. “It’s okay, Hedy, really… I was just trying to help Harry wash his hands so he could eat, but I guess I accidentally knocked the bowl over…” “You don’t have to cover for him, Trey! I saw the whole thing!” Hedy snapped. She marched over to the side of my bed and delivered a fierce, stinging slap straight to my face. “You ungrateful bastard!” she screamed, her eyes wild with fury. “Do you have any idea how much Trey urged me to come visit you today? Is this how you treat someone who’s trying to help you?” Trey feigned concern, laying a hand on her arm. “Hedy, don’t be like that. Let him eat his food. I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” “Of course he meant it!” Hedy barked back, her face red. She snatched the fresh takeout box off the table and slammed it directly into the trash can. “He doesn’t deserve to eat! Let him starve for a night—maybe then he’ll figure out who actually cares about him!” I stared at this stranger who was supposed to be my wife, completely bewildered. How could I have ever been stupid enough to marry a woman like this? The sheer absurdity of it made me laugh internally. “Don’t bother starving me,” I said, my voice dripping with cold detachment. “Let’s just get a divorce.” Hedy went completely still. In all our years together, I had never once uttered that word. It was always her weapon, a threat she used to keep me in line. She stood frozen for two full seconds before her pride kicked in. “Oh, look at you! Your wings are grown now, huh? Threatening me with a divorce?” she shouted, her voice shrill. “Fine! You think I’m scared of you? Divorce it is! I can’t wait to be rid of a loser like you!” She spun around and stomped toward the exit, slamming her designer heels against the floor with extra force. I knew what she was doing. She was giving me a grand, dramatic exit, expecting me to throw off the covers, crawl out of bed, and beg her to stay. I watched her retreating back, feeling absolutely nothing. No anger, no heartbreak, no desperation. Whoever I used to be, whatever pathetic dynamic we had shared—it was dead. I was never going to bow down to anyone ever again. The moment the door slammed shut, I reached for my phone and called Leona. “Leona,” I said quietly. “Please set up that hospital transfer. Today.” If I was going to cut ties, I was going to cut them clean down to the bone. … Two days later, with Leona’s help, I was successfully checked into a top-tier private medical facility on the other side of town. Though my body was slowly healing, I still required intense daily physical therapy. I was just attempting to sit up and head toward the rehab room when the door was kicked open. Hedy and Trey burst into the room, red-faced and furious. “Harry! Who gave you permission to transfer hospitals?!” Hedy yelled, charging up to my bed. “Do you have any idea how much money I paid that last hospital? Because you left without notice, the room fees are non-refundable!” I looked at her coldly. At that previous hospital, I had been left lying in a bed day after day. Not a single doctor came to check my charts, and no one offered a single round of physical therapy. She hadn’t been paying for care—she had been paying for me to rot in a corner. Over five years, the money I spent on her medical bills could have paid for an entire floor of a private hospital. Now she was screaming at me over two wasted days of a basic ward fee. Seeing my icy silence, her rage mounted. “Are you still playing this stupid amnesia trick? Are you addicted to acting like a victim?” Exhausted by her endless noise, I grabbed my updated medical chart off the bedside table and tossed it right into her lap. She picked it up, her brow furrowing as she flipped through the pages. A second later, her body went rigid. Trey immediately leaned over her shoulder, sniffing in disdain. “Hedy, come on. People can forge medical records all the time! He probably paid some shady clinic to print this out!” A look of realization instantly washed over Hedy’s face, replaced by arrogant triumph. “Harry, I don’t have time for your cheap little mind games. Pack your things and move back to the original hospital right now! What is wrong with you?” Trey smirked, stepping forward with a sinister gleam in his eyes. “Hedy, don’t stress yourself out. I actually know an old-school remedy for memory loss from one of my relatives.” Hedy frowned slightly, but nodded. “Fine. Whatever fixes his attitude.” With her explicit permission, Trey let out a cold chuckle. He lunged forward, grabbed my shoulders, and dragged me right off the bed onto the floor. Before I could brace myself, he slammed the heel of his heavy leather shoe directly onto my chest. “The old doctors say amnesia happens because the brain experienced a trauma it’s trying to avoid,” Trey sneered, putting his full weight on my sternum. “If you want the memories back, you just have to hit him with the exact same shock he felt before!” He stomped down hard, three times in rapid succession. I felt the sickening crunch of bone as my ribs caved in under his boot. Hedy stood by the door, her arms crossed, watching the assault with a faint frown. She didn’t say a single word to stop him. Looking at her cold, unbothered expression as I suffocated on the floor, the sheer tragedy of my past life hit me. Leona had told me that years ago, if I so much as splattered a drop of hot oil on my hand while cooking for Hedy, she would cry, wrap my hands in bandages, and blow on the burn to soothe the pain. Now, Trey was literally stomping the life out of me, and she barely batted an eye. How terrifyingly fast a human heart could curdle. A sudden, excruciating crack echoed through the room. A jagged piece of my fractured rib pierced directly into my internal organ. Blinding white pain surged through my skull, wiping my mind completely blank. Cold sweat poured down my face as I gagged for air. But Trey wasn’t done. He reached down, grabbed a handful of my hair, and yanked my head back. “So?” Trey laughed maliciously. “Does that jump-start your memory, buddy? Remember who I am now?” When I didn’t answer, Trey grinned, tightening his grip on my hair to slam my skull against the hard concrete wall. “Stop it! What the hell are you doing?!” a voice shrieked from the hallway. The next second, Leona sprinted into the room. She threw her entire body against Trey, forcefully ripping his hands off me. Hedy’s head snapped toward Leona, her eyes narrowing in anger. “Who the hell are you?” Leona completely ignored her. She dropped to her knees beside me, her hands trembling violently as she checked my chest and bleeding mouth, her face pale with terror. Seeing a beautiful, elegant woman hovering over me with such obvious intimacy sent Hedy over the edge. “Unbelievable!” Hedy barked, her voice shrill. “It’s only been a few days and you’ve already found yourself a little hooker? And you had the nerve to claim you lost your memory!” She lunged forward, swinging her hand to slap Leona across the face. “Get your hands off my husband!” Leona took the hit, stumbling backward, but immediately scrambled back in front of me, using her body as a shield. “Your husband?!” Leona shouted, tears spilling over her lashes. “You actually have the nerve to call him your husband? Do you have any idea what he gave up for you over the last five years?! You let this monster beat him into a cripple! You don’t love him—you never did!” Hedy blinked, caught off guard for a split second, before bursting into a loud, mocking laugh. “I don’t love him? What would an outsider like you know?!” Hedy sneered, taking a step closer. “Even if I didn’t give a damn about him, he loves me to death! Do you have any idea how devoted he was to me?” She gestured wildly around the room. “For five whole years, he lived in my house! He cooked my meals, fed me, washed my clothes, and cleaned my shoes! I hated sitting in a wheelchair, so whenever I went out, he carried me on his back! Five years of carrying me everywhere! He even tattooed my name onto his wrist, swearing he’d love me forever!” Smirking triumphantly, Hedy grabbed my limp right wrist and yanked it into the air to show Leona. “Right, Harry? Tell her!” She looked down at me, expecting to see the familiar, desperate adoration in my eyes. Instead, she met a gaze that was completely, utterly hollow.

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When my wife helped her drunk childhood sweetheart into our apartment, I was lying in bed, doubled over from excruciating stomach cramps. She didn’t spare me a single glance. Instead, she guided him straight to our bedroom and laid him down across our marital bed. Then, with a tenderness she hadn’t shown me in years, she took a warm cloth and gently wiped his face. “Cathy, give me a hug…” he slurred, his voice thick with liquor. A soft, genuine smile lit up my wife’s face—a smile I hadn’t seen directed at me in months. Without warning, she grabbed my arm and yanked me out of bed. “I need to stay in here and take care of him tonight,” she said, her voice flat and matter-of-fact. “Go sleep in the guest room. And tomorrow morning, make some seafood chowder for breakfast. He loves it.” She had completely forgotten that I have a severe, potentially life-threatening seafood allergy. Even a trace of cross-contamination could send me into anaphylactic shock. I clutched my burning abdomen, fighting the pain. “Did you get my medication? You said you’d pick it up on your way home.” She rolled her eyes, her impatience sharp and stinging. “It’s just your usual stomach pain. Stop being so delicate. Figure it out yourself.” In that quiet, humiliating moment, the last piece of my devotion crumbled into dust. A week ago, she had casually announced her intention to act as a surrogate—to carry a frozen embryo created by him and his deceased girlfriend. Deep down, I knew our marriage had already entered its final countdown. Later, she would end up on her knees, sobbing and begging me to love her the way I used to, to cherish her again. Too bad. Some fractures can never be mended. 1 This wasn’t the first time my wife, Catherine, had brought Dean home drunk. But it was the first time she dropped all pretense of respect for me, carrying another man straight into the bed we shared as husband and wife. When she pulled me up from the mattress, a sharp, white-hot blade of pain shot through my gut. “Dean drank way too much,” she instructed, her eyes fixed on him. “Go make some honey tea to sober him up. Put extra honey in it. He likes it sweet.” I forced down the rising tide of fury in my throat. “If you’re so worried about him being too drunk to take care of himself, take him home. His parents can look after him.” Catherine turned and glared at me. “His parents are in their fifties! How could you be so heartless as to disturb them this late?” I stared at her, my jaw tightening. She worried endlessly about his parents, who were barely past fifty. Yet she seemed to have conveniently forgotten how my mother, nearly seventy, had traveled from her quiet rural home to take care of her when she was down with a fever last winter. And what did Catherine do in return? She criticized my mother’s cooking, complained about her habits, and even confiscated the modest living allowance I gave her, claiming a woman living in a small town had her own garden and didn’t need a single cent of my money. “Are you planning on staying right beside him all night?” I asked, my voice deadly quiet. Suddenly aware that Dean had wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close, Catherine looked momentarily flustered. She patted his hand gently. “Dean, let go.” Dean slowly opened his eyes, staring up at her with glossy, unfocused eyes. “Babe… remember back in the day? Whenever I got drunk, we used to cuddle and kiss…” Catherine cast a nervous glance at me. “He… he’s out of his mind right now. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. Don’t take it personally.” I let out a cold, humorless laugh. “So you’re just going to spend the night curled up in his arms?” Catherine hurriedly pulled herself free from his grip and took a step toward me. “When he drinks, he turns into a helpless child. I can’t just leave him like this.” I pressed my palm against my side, swallowing the bitter taste in my mouth. “He’s a grown man with two working legs. He doesn’t need another man’s wife mothering him. I’m moving him to the guest room right now.” Before my hand could even brush Dean’s shoulder, Catherine shoved me back hard. “Connor, I married you, I didn’t sell my soul to you!” her voice cracked with sudden rage. “I can spend time with whoever I want, and you don’t get a say. Dean is sensitive—he can’t sleep in a foreign bed. Stop throwing a childish tantrum!” As if on cue, Dean pulled her back into his embrace. The movement was smooth, practiced, and intimate, as though they had done it a thousand times before. “Babe,” Dean murmured, resting his face against her shoulder. “Our bed is so comfortable. With you here, I know I’m going to have a wonderful night.” “Our bed?” My heart sank into a dark, bottomless pit. Before we got married, I had offered to buy a brand-new master bedroom suite. Catherine had insisted on bringing the bed from her old rental apartment, claiming she was used to the mattress. Now I understood. It wasn’t about comfort. That mattress was saturated with memories of her and Dean. I took a deep, shaky breath, about to speak, when Dean groaned again, clutching his stomach. “Babe… it hurts.” I watched in stunned silence as my wife pulled a blister pack of prescription stomach medication straight out of her coat pocket. Dean offered her a lazy, triumphant smile. “I knew it. You never forget how my stomach acts up when I drink. All these years, and you still keep my meds on you.” Catherine seemed to realize how damning it looked. Her expression shifted, and she looked up at me nervously. “I… it’s just an old habit. It doesn’t mean anything. We’ve been broken up for years. We’re just friends now.” My lips curved into a bitter line. “If you’re just friends, you won’t mind giving those pills to your husband, right? Seeing as my stomach—” Before I could finish my sentence, Catherine pushed a pill directly into Dean’s mouth, handing him a glass of water. The sight felt like a physical blow to my chest. Love and indifference really were that obvious, wasn’t it? “Your stomach pain is a chronic thing,” Catherine said without looking at me. “You can handle it. Dean is different. His pain tolerance is incredibly low—he suffers terribly even with a mild ache.” My hand came down heavy on the nightstand, sending a sharp clap echoing through the room. “Catherine, I am not noble enough to share my wife with another man. You need to decide right now—it’s either him or me.” Catherine stormed up to me, her hand swinging wildly through the air. “SLAP.” 2 “You’re unbelievable, Connor!” she hissed, her voice trembling with indignation. “What’s wrong with me taking care of a friend? I’m telling you, if you keep making scenes like this, I’ll divorce you!” I pressed the tip of my tongue against the inside of my bruised cheek where her ring had clipped me. Without saying a word, I pulled out my phone and dialed Sadie, my childhood friend who had grown up in the same small town as me. “Hey, Sadie,” I said into the receiver, keeping my voice smooth and deliberate. “Let’s grab breakfast tomorrow morning. That little diner we used to go to.” Ignoring Catherine’s pale, furious face, I turned on my heel and walked out of the room. I stood on the guest room balcony in the frigid night air and lit a cigarette. I took a deep pull, letting the smoke burn down into my lungs. Memories of the first time I met Catherine drifted into my mind. Back then, I was a young, ambitious engineer, practically living at the office to pull off a massive project. I worked myself to the bone, routinely skipping meals. Catherine was the daughter of the company’s owner, Mr. Lancaster. One afternoon, when my stomach ulcers flared up so badly I collapsed on the office floor, she was the one who found me. She took me to the ER. She stayed by my bedside, wiping my forehead, bringing me broth. I fell hard for her gentle care. Once the project wrapped up successfully, I began pursuing her with everything I had. It took six months for her to agree to be my girlfriend. Our path to marriage felt natural, quiet, and warm. Or so I thought—until Dean returned from abroad. Suddenly, he was calling her at all hours, inviting her out for drinks and dinners. At first, I voiced my discomfort, but she would pout, wrap her arms around my neck, and accuse me of being overly possessive. Perhaps it was my own lenient foolishness that had reignited their spark. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. From across the hall, I could hear the faint, soft coos of my wife whispering comfort to Dean whenever he stirred. When morning came, I walked out of the guest room with heavy, bruised-looking dark circles under my eyes. I saw Catherine busy in the kitchen, standing over the stove. A faint flick of hope stirred in my chest. “Maybe she’s making something for me to make up for last night.” I stepped forward, about to reach around her waist out of sheer muscle memory, when my eyes caught the ingredients sitting on the counter: fresh crab meat, shrimp, and scallops. “I’m severely allergic to shellfish,” I said, my voice dropping an octave. Catherine glanced back at me, her lip curling in a slight sneer. “This is seafood chowder for Dean. There’s none for you.” My hands curled into tight fists at my sides. Just then, Dean strolled out of the master bathroom. A plush towel was wrapped around his waist, and an unbuttoned silk shirt hung loosely off his broad shoulders, showing off his sculpted chest. Catherine’s face flushed with a soft, smitten pink. “Put some proper clothes on,” she scolded gently, though her eyes lingered. “You’ll catch a cold.” Dean walked right past me, stopping at the kitchen island. “Connor, I’m going to be relying on your hospitality for the next few days.” I froze. “What?” Catherine walked over to Dean, naturally reaching up to fasten the buttons of his shirt one by one. “Dean hasn’t been feeling well lately. I’ve decided to let him stay here for a while so I can help nurse him back to health. He’ll move out once he’s recovered.” I leaned heavily against the dining table, staring at her. “And what if I say no?” Catherine let out a sharp sigh. “This is my house, Connor. If I want to invite a friend to stay, you don’t have a veto. If you feel uncomfortable, you’re welcome to stay at your office until Dean leaves.” Without waiting for my reply, she dished out a steaming bowl of seafood chowder and set it down in front of Dean. Dean took a spoon, tasted it, and gave her a enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Babe, you’re amazing. By the way, did you talk to him about what we discussed last night?” Catherine glanced at me, her tone cold and indifferent. “It’s my body. He doesn’t get to control what I do with it.” Dean nodded, turning his head to look at me with a patronizing expression. “Don’t worry, Connor. I’ll arrange everything. Once Catherine gives birth to the baby, I’ll take the child and leave immediately. We won’t disturb your lives.” I stared at them, completely stunned. “What on earth are you talking about?” Catherine met my gaze, completely unbothered. “Dean’s girlfriend died in a car accident a year ago. Before she passed, they frozen an embryo together. I’m going to have that embryo implanted in my uterus and carry their baby to term for him.” The words hit me like a thunderbolt, shattering the room into sharp, agonizing fragments. 3 I stared at Catherine, my mind struggling to process the sheer absurdity of her words. “Have you lost your mind?” I choked out. “That kind of illicit surrogacy isn’t even legal here!” Dean offered a casual, dismissive chuckle. “Don’t worry about the legalities, Connor. I’ll be taking Catherine abroad for the procedure and the term. I’ll take excellent care of her and the baby. Once the child is born safely, I’ll send her right back to you.” I didn’t even look at Dean. My eyes stayed locked on my wife, my chest heaving. “If you go through with carrying another man’s child,” I said, my voice dangerously steady, “we are getting a divorce.” Without another word, I grabbed my coat and walked out the door. By the time I reached my office, my head was throbbing with a violent migraine, and my stomach felt like it was being twisted in knots. A paper cup of warm water and two small white pills were gently placed on my desk. I looked up, dazed. It was Sadie. She had dropped by my studio space. “Take these, Connor,” she said softly, her eyes filled with genuine concern. “They’ll help with the spasms.” Her gentle voice pulled me out of the dark spiral in my head. I swallowed the medication and washed it down with the warm water, leaning back against my office chair with an exhausted sigh. “I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I promised I’d buy you breakfast this morning, and I flaked.” Sadie smiled, a sweet, bright warmth radiating from her that felt like sunshine after a brutal winter storm. “Don’t worry about it. Whenever you and your wife have some free time, come over to my place. I’ll cook us a proper home-style meal.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Catherine was a wealthy heiress, born into luxury. How could she ever appreciate simple, home-style cooking? My mind flashed back to the first time I brought her home to meet my mother. Mom had spent two days preparing a feast of local dishes, her face glowing with pride. But Catherine hadn’t touched a single bite. She had openly turned her nose up at the spread, whispering loudly that it smelled like “farm slop.” I would never forget the look of sheer embarrassment and hurt on my mother’s weathered face that day. After Sadie left to check on the morning prints, I reached for the silver photo frame sitting on the corner of my desk. In the picture, I was holding Catherine, a brilliant, radiant smile on my face—looking like a man who believed he held the entire world in his arms. But looking closer now, Catherine’s expression was distant, her eyes clouded with hesitation. Then, my eyes caught a detail on her hand in the photo—a ring on her right index finger. My heart felt as though it had been stabbed by an icicle. It wasn’t the custom wedding ring I had spent months designing and refining for her. It was a designer couple’s ring—a limited edition line from a high-end luxury brand. And if my memory served me right, I had seen the matching male version of that exact ring on Dean’s finger just hours ago. The office was dead quiet. I traced the plain platinum band on my own left ring finger, letting out a silent, hollow laugh. Slowly, deliberately, I slid the ring off my finger and set it on the desk. I opened my laptop, created a blank document, and typed out two bold words at the top: DIVORCE AGREEMENT 4 It was past midnight when I finally returned to the apartment, utterly exhausted in body and spirit. Catherine wasn’t home. I dialed her number. The phone rang for a long time before someone finally picked up. Before I could say a word, Dean’s voice drifted through the speaker, lazy and intimate. “She’s already asleep. Whatever it is, talk to her tomorrow.” Then, the line went dead. I gave a faint, resigned smile. I picked up the printed divorce papers from my briefcase, signed my name at the bottom, and left them sitting dead-center on the dining table. To my surprise, Catherine didn’t come home for the next week. I didn’t bother reaching out. Instead, I sank into a simple, predictable routine: moving between my office and the quiet apartment. Oddly enough, in her absence, I found a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in years. I could come home, throw my jacket on the rack, and collapse onto the couch without being lectured. I didn’t have to spend hours searching through complicated organic recipes to prepare her three meals a day plus midnight snacks. I no longer had to mark calendar dates with a red pen, desperately tracking her ovulation cycles just to beg for her affection in hopes of becoming a father. Two weeks later, Catherine returned. Dean was supporting her by the elbow as she walked through the front door. Her face was pale, her skin sallow. As Dean helped her down onto the sofa, his phone rang. When he looked at the screen, a soft, fond smile spread across his face—the undeniable look of a man who was falling in love with someone new. “Babe, I’ve got something I need to take care of,” Dean said, glancing down at Catherine. “Rest up, okay?” Catherine nodded obediently, her tone docile. “Okay. Be safe.” Watching the unspoken intimacy linger between them, I almost wanted to laugh out loud. Once Dean left, Catherine’s eyes finally landed on me. Her demeanor shifted instantly back to her usual cold superiority. “I haven’t eaten all day,” she declared in a commanding tone. “Go make me some afternoon tea and pastries.” Hearing her speak to me like a servant, I felt a faint smirk touch my lips. “I have work back at the studio. I’m leaving.” “PFT!” Catherine snatched a throw pillow from the couch and slammed it against my chest. “I’m calling my dad in a minute! You don’t need to go to work anymore. For the next ten months, your only job is to stay home and take care of me. I’ll have my dad keep paying your salary.” Ten months? My stomach churned. My eyes moved slowly down to her stomach. Catherine rested both hands gently over her abdomen, a bright, triumphant smile blooming on her pale face. “The embryo transfer was a success.” The last lingering spark of hope inside me died, turning to cold ash. I picked up the signed divorce agreement from the sideboard and dropped it onto the glass coffee table in front of her. “Let’s make this clean and end it here.” Catherine’s face transformed instantly into a mask of rage. “Connor! Without my father backing you, you’ll go right back to being the penniless nobody you were when I met you!” Her arrogant, condescending posture only reaffirmed that I was making the right choice. Sheltered in her bubble of wealth, she had convincing herself that my success was entirely a gift from her family. She had no idea that the studio’s major clients and successful projects were the result of my own blood, sweat, and late-night hustling. In fact, over sixty percent of her father’s firm’s revenue had come from contracts I brought in. If I walked away with my team, her father’s business would be severely crippled. “Just sign it,” I said quietly. “I’m giving you and Dean my blessing. That way, when the baby is born, it won’t have to carry the stigma of an affair.” Catherine stood up, stepped closer to me, and suddenly wrapped her arms around my torso. “Honey, please understand. Once I give birth, Dean will take the baby away forever. After that… after that, I’ll give you a baby of our own, okay?” I reached down to shove her off me when her phone began to ring. It was a custom ringtone—a bright, upbeat melody she had set exclusively for Dean. A bitter smirk curled on my lips. She hit answer. Within seconds, the color drained from her face. “I… I’ll be right there!” she gasped. Hanging up, she grabbed my arm, her fingers digging in frantically. “Drive me to the hospital! Dean was in a car accident! I’m too panicked to drive… please!” I didn’t refuse. Until the divorce papers were officially processed by the state, she was still legally my wife. If she got into a wreck driving in a panic, it would only cause me more legal headaches. All the way to the hospital, Catherine kept screaming at me to go faster, even reaching over twice to grab the steering wheel. Sweat broke out on my back from her erratic, dangerous outbursts. “If anything happens to Dean,” she spat out, her eyes bloodshot as she glared at me, “I will never forgive you!” I looked at her cold, hysterical face, turned my head back to the road, and slammed my foot all the way down on the gas pedal.

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To take care of her college sweetheart, who had nothing more than a mild fever, my wife left our four-year-old daughter home alone. In her desperate rush to be by his side, she forgot to turn off the gas stove. A catastrophic gas leak tore through our home, leaving our little girl critically burned. Trapped in an ICU bed, her dying wish was simply to see her mother one last time. But my wife refused her, coldly hanging up the phone because she was too busy brewing tea and unboxing cold medicine for her old flame. Only after it was far too late did the horrifying truth shatter my wife’s delusion. Broken by unbearable guilt, she knelt at our daughter’s grave to beg for forgiveness—and locked her beloved first love inside a commercial ice freezer to freeze to death with her own hands. 1. The call came just before noon, shattering the quiet routine of my workday. By the time I slammed my car into park outside the emergency entrance of St. Jude’s Memorial, my heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. When I finally pushed into the trauma bay, the world seemed to stop moving. My four-year-old daughter, Mia, lay on the narrow hospital bed, looking impossibly small beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. Charred, raw skin covered her tiny body; deep purple bruises pooled across her delicate limbs. Where my bright, sweet girl usually glowed with chubby-cheeked innocence, there was only blackened, ruined flesh. She looked like a ghost of herself. I collapsed beside her bed, my knees barely holding my weight. My hand hovered over her, trembling, terrified that even the gentlest touch would cause her unbearable agony. “Mia… baby,” I choked out, my voice cracking. “Daddy’s here. How are you feeling? Does it hurt?” Her little eyelids fluttered open, heavy and swollen. When her eyes finally found mine, a brief glint of recognition flickered through the haze of pain. “Daddy…” her voice was a breathy, raspy whisper. “Mia isn’t crying… Mia is being brave. Is Mommy outside? I want Mommy.” A sharp, unbearable ache pierced my chest. I blinked back the burning tears blurring my vision and forced the softest, safest smile I could manage. “She’s coming, sweetheart. I promise. Mommy was waiting for you outside when we came in. You just need to close your eyes, take a little nap for the doctors, and when you wake up, we’ll all be right here. Don’t be scared, okay?” Mia gave the faintest nod. The surgeon tapped my shoulder, handing me a clipboard. My hand shook violently as I signed the surgical consent forms, watching through blurriness as they wheeled my little girl through the double doors of the operating room. The heavy doors swung shut, sealing her away. I leaned my back against the cold corridor wall, sliding down until I hit the floor, burying my face in my hands. The promise I had just made echoed in the empty hallway. I had to find Rita. When I left for the office this morning, Rita and Mia were eating pancakes in the kitchen. Less than four hours later, my phone rang with a panicked call from emergency services—our suburban townhouse had been torn apart by a gas explosion and a catastrophic flash fire. Mia had been pulled from the flames barely breathing. Rita was nowhere to be found. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. “Ring. Ring. Ring.” It went straight to voicemail. I called again. And again. Nothing. Just as panic was morphing into suffocating rage, my phone vibrated with a social media notification. An Instagram story alert from Chad—Chad Henderson. I tapped the screen. A photograph bloomed across the display. It was taken in a brightly lit, modern kitchen. Rita was standing by the counter, a soft, tender smile lighting up her face as she stirred a steaming mug of honey-lemon tea and unboxed cold medicine. The caption read: “Down with a fever, but my favorite college sweetheart showed up to play nurse. Feeling blessed.” I stared at the image, every word in that caption searing into my brain like acid. My daughter was inside an operating room, fighting for her life with third-degree burns covering her body. And my wife was across town, gently brewing tea for her old flame. Chad had always been the shadow hanging over our marriage. He was Rita’s first love—her “white moonlight,” the one who got away. In college, their romance was the stuff of legends; I had watched from the sidelines as Chad swept her off her feet. But right after graduation, Chad had ruthlessly betrayed her. He stole her coveted study-abroad scholarship and fled to Europe with a wealthy heiress, leaving Rita shattered. She spent months locked in a dark room, broken. I was the one who pulled her out. I took her for long drives, cooked her meals, held her through the night, and built a life with her piece by piece. Together, we built a business. Together, we had Mia. I thought those years of devotion had buried Chad’s ghost for good. Listening to the dull, rhythmic beep of the hospital monitors nearby, I dialed Rita’s phone one more time. This time, she picked up on the sixth ring. But before I could speak, her voice cut through the line—sharp, irritated, and dripping with annoyance. “Scott, can’t this wait until tomorrow? I am extremely busy right now. I don’t have time for your endless checking up on me.” Her voice was pitched higher than usual—the defensive tone she always used when she knew she was doing something she shouldn’t. Something inside me snapped. “Busy?” I rasped, my voice trembling with suppressed fury. “Busy doing what, Rita? Playing house with another man?” She gasped subtly, then countered with even louder indignation. “Listen to yourself! I don’t care what you think I’m doing, Scott. You don’t own me, and you don’t get to interrogate me like a child!” A nurse stepped out of the ICU, placing a finger to her lips to signal me to keep my voice down. I swallowed hard, forcing my tone into a desperate, low whisper. “Rita, listen to me carefully. Mia—” “Rita, is that Scott on the phone?” A man’s voice interrupted her in the background. It was Chad. He let out a dramatic, wheezing cough. “If he’s demanding you come home, you should go. Don’t let me get in the way. I’ll… I’ll try to manage this fever on my own.” Through the line, I heard Rita’s voice soften instantly as she turned away from the phone. “Shh, Chad, don’t move. You’re sick. Just rest.” A profound, sickening cold spread through my veins. The woman who had built a life with me, who had stood by my side as we built our company from nothing, was speaking to another man with a tenderness she hadn’t shown me in years. I couldn’t care about my own heartbreak right now. My daughter needed her mother. “Rita,” I begged, discarding every ounce of my pride. “Please. Just listen to me.” 2. Rita covered the receiver with her hand, but her voice still drifted through clearly to my ear: “Don’t worry about him, Chad. Drink the medicine while it’s hot, it’ll help sweat out the fever.” Chad made a show of drinking loudly, sighing with exaggerated gratitude. Then Rita brought the phone back to her ear, her voice instantly reverting to cold hostility. “Scott, if you don’t have anything actual to say, I’m hanging up. I don’t have time for your petty jealousy.” “Rita, for God’s sake, Mia was left home alone and the house caught fire!” I screamed into the receiver, forgetting the nurse’s warning entirely. “She’s in the pediatric ICU! She’s clinging to life! Please, if you have any soul left in you, come to the hospital right now!” There was a brief silence on her end. For a second, I thought the reality had hit her. But then came a short, bitter laugh. “Scott, are you out of your mind?” Rita sneered. “You’re so consumed by jealousy because I’m helping an old friend that you’re literally inventing a house fire? You’re using our daughter to manipulate me? I’m telling you right now, if you bring Mia into your pathetic mind games one more time, I will never forgive you.” I froze, stunned into silence by her sheer cruelty. Chad’s voice floated through the background again, sounding squeamish and performatively concerned. “Rita… is Mia really hurt? If there was a fire at your place, wouldn’t it be on the local news? If… if you’re really worried, you should go. You really don’t have to stay here for me…” He ended the sentence with another ragged, pathetic cough. The fake innocence in his tone made me want to tear him apart through the phone. But it worked flawlessly on Rita. “Scott, stop acting like a dramatic child,” Rita snapped at me, her resolve hardening. “I’ll be home later tonight.” Chad let out a subtle, triumphant breath, his voice dripping with insincere humility. “Scott, I’m really sorry to cause trouble between you two. Rita just needs to boil some more hot water for my compress, and then I’ll make sure she—” “Chad, stop apologizing to him,” Rita interrupted him warmly. “Just lie back down. I’ll take care of everything here first.” A faint ember of hope, foolish and desperate, flickered in my chest. “First?” Did that mean she was coming straight after? Did she still care, even a little? Then, she spoke into the phone again, throwing cold water over that tiny ember and extinguishing it forever. 3. “Scott, let me make one thing crystal clear,” Rita’s voice was as cold as steel. “If you are pathetic enough to fake our daughter’s tragic accident just to win an argument, then we have nothing left to say to each other.” She paused, taking a sharp breath. “I want a divorce.” My heart didn’t just break; it shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. Before the silence on the line could swallow me, the doors to the operating room burst open. The surgical team pushed a gurney out, surrounded by dripping IV bags and heart monitors. I dropped my phone, letting it dangle against my chest on its lanyard, and rushed to my daughter’s side. Mia had been moved to a room in the pediatric intensive care unit. I pulled a plastic chair up to her bed, sitting down carefully, holding onto her uninjured little finger. Through the forgotten speaker of my phone, Rita’s distant voice was still crackling from the floor where it had fallen. “…You’ve completely disappointed me this time, Scott.” At that moment, Mia’s long eyelashes fluttered. Her clouded, innocent eyes slowly opened, searching the dim room until they landed on me. “Daddy…” she whispered weakly. “Is that… is that Mommy talking?” A wave of agony crashed over me, scalding my throat. Tears overflowed my eyes and tracked down my cheeks. I picked up the phone with a trembling hand and held it near her pale, oxygen-masked face. “Mia… talk to Mommy, sweetie,” I sobbed quietly. “Mommy…” Mia’s voice was tiny, fragile, like spun glass. Hearing her daughter’s voice, Rita’s tone on the phone instantly shifted. The hostility melted into an exaggerated, sing-song tenderness. “Mia! Oh, sweetie, are you having fun at home with Daddy? Mommy will be home in a little while, okay?” Mia struggled to breathe, her faint voice cutting through the speaker. “Mommy… I’m so sorry… The big fire burned up all the pretty things you bought… I’m sorry, Mommy… But my body hurts so, so bad… Can you please come hold me?” Tears leaked from the corners of Mia’s swollen eyes, soaking into the white hospital pillow. My heart was being ripped out inch by inch. On the other end of the line, the silence lasted for barely two seconds before Rita’s voice turned dangerously sharp. “Scott! She’s sitting right there talking to me! How dare you!” Rita barked, her gentleness vanishing instantly. “Mia, listen to Mommy. It is very, very bad to tell lies! Did your father teach you to say those horrible things?” “Mommy, no—” Mia whimpered. “I am talking, Mia!” Rita snapped through the speaker. “Lying is the most shameful thing a child can do. If you keep listening to your father and telling dirty lies like this, you don’t get to call me Mommy anymore!” “Click.” The call disconnected. The hollow dial tone chimed repeatedly in the quiet room. Mia stared at the black screen of the phone, her small face completely blank with shock. And inside me, the last thread of love I had ever held for Rita snapped forever. 4. “Daddy…” Mia rasped, her eyes wide with overwhelming distress. “Mia didn’t lie… I didn’t lie, Daddy…” She struggled to turn her body, her breath coming in shallow, frantic hitches. “Tell Mommy I was brave, Daddy… Look… I saved Mommy’s necklace…” With agonizing slowness, her tiny, blistered fist opened. Nestled in her blackened palm was a melted, charred lump of gold—Rita’s favorite designer necklace, the one I had gifted her for our fifth anniversary. “Mommy said… she loved it so much…” Mia whispered, her voice fading. “I remembered, Daddy… I saved it…” My head throbbed with a blinding pain. I looked at that ruined piece of metal, realizing what my four-year-old baby had done. When the flames broke out, instead of running straight for the door, she had crawled through smoke and scorching heat into the bedroom just to reach her mother’s nightstand. She loved her mother so much. And her mother had just accused her of being a liar. “Daddy knows, baby… Daddy knows you were brave,” I sobbed, closing my hands gently around hers. Suddenly, Mia’s breathing turned into violent gasps. The chest monitor above her bed erupted into a frantic, shrill blare of alarms. The green lines representing her heart rate plunged downward in a terrifying vertical drop. I slammed my palm against the emergency call button, screaming for help. Doctors and nurses flooded the room, pushing me aside, shouting orders, tearing open crash carts. They worked on her tiny frame for ten grueling minutes, pumping her chest, pushing epinephrine. Finally, the lead physician stopped. He turned to me, his eyes filled with profound, crushing pity. “Mr. Dawson…” he whispered softly, laying a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Her body… she’s stopped fighting. Her neurological activity is fading rapidly. If there’s anything you need to say to her… say it now.” I collapsed over the guardrails of the bed, putting my ear inches from her lips. Mia’s pale lips were moving slightly, making no sound. I listened with everything I had. “…Mommy…” she breathed out, a microscopic puff of air against my cheek. “…Mia… didn’t… lie…” A heavy tear fell from my chin, landing on her soft, pale cheek. “Daddy…” she whispered, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. “I miss… Mommy…” Then, the monitor flatlined into a solid, unbroken tone. The silence that followed was louder than the fire that had consumed our home. I went numb. I stood in the corridor like a statue as they covered my daughter’s body with a white sheet and rolled her away toward the basement. I dialed Rita’s number over and over and over, begging the silent air for her to pick up, just so she could see her daughter one last time before they took her away. She never answered. An hour later, an arson investigator from the fire department met me in the family room. He handed me a preliminary report. The cause of the fire was a gas leak combined with an unextinguished flame on the kitchen stove. Rita had been boiling water, had rushed out the door in a hurry to meet Chad, and had left the burner running on low. The flame blew out, gas filled the enclosed townhouse, and a spark from the refrigerator compressor triggered a catastrophic explosion. Every word in that report felt like a physical strike to my soul. I spent the rest of the day finalizing the arrangements for Mia’s body. I couldn’t go back to our old home—it was a scorched, condemned ruin. Instead, I drove to the new, empty apartment we had purchased last month as an investment property. I sent Rita a single text: “Come to the new apartment. It’s urgent.” She didn’t come. I sat alone on the bare sofa in the dark, my eyes open, watching the city lights outside fade until the gray dawn crept over the skyline. The next morning, I opened the “Find My” app on my laptop. Rita’s phone location was active. She was at a private estate in the affluent hills on the north side of the city. I drove there in silence. When I arrived at the grand, gated mansion, music was pulsing through the manicured lawn. A birthday brunch was in full swing; wealthy guests in linen suits and summer dresses were holding champagne flutes around a sparkling pool. Through the glass patio doors, I saw Rita. She was laughing, her hips swaying to the music, her hands resting comfortably on Chad’s shoulders as they danced. A cold, lethal stillness took over my mind. I pushed past the catering staff and walked straight into the house.

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On the night before our wedding, the bridesmaids and groomsmen were too excited to sleep. Someone suggested playing an anonymous “Truth or Dare” game. Everyone had to write down one thing they wanted to say to me, the bride-to-be, on a slip of paper. I closed my eyes in anticipation, expecting sweet blessings. But when I opened the first note, I froze. “You bitch. If you hadn’t forced Ethan, Harper would have married him!” Harper, my best friend. Just three hours ago, she called me to apologize, saying she had a last-minute business trip and couldn’t make it to my wedding. My hands shook as I opened the next one. “The wedding ring he bought you? Harper actually picked it out first. She rejected it because it was too cheap, so he gave you her leftovers.” “Did you know? The day your mother died, he was in bed with Harper in your future home.” “The real reason Harper isn’t coming to your wedding is because she just gave birth to Ethan’s baby and is recovering.” When my eyes fell on the last note, I recognized the handwriting instantly. “I accept my fate of being ruined by you in this life. Just let me go in the next.” After the initial shock of this absurdity, a wave of cold mockery washed over me. I crumpled the notes into a tight ball, slipped the wedding ring off my finger, and threw them all into the trash can. Then, I looked up at Ethan. “Since things are like this, let’s turn tomorrow’s wedding into a birthday party for your baby.”

The room fell dead silent. Then, a scoff erupted from the corner, and soon, the whole room burst into laughter. “Chloe, cut the act. Everyone knows you practically begged for this marriage. How could you just call it off?” Ethan’s best friend, Logan, laughed so hard he slapped his knee, his eyes filled with pure mockery. “Seriously. You should be crying tears of joy that Ethan is willing to marry you. Stop drama-queening.” Another bridesmaid chimed in, taking a sip from her glass. I said nothing. Ethan knelt down, picked up the paper balls from the trash can one by one, smoothed them out, and read them. Then, he looked up at me. He was calm, as if he had expected this moment all along. “Since you already know, there’s no point in hiding it anymore.” “The wedding will go on as scheduled. I’ll give you everything I promised. Just don’t go causing trouble for Harper.” I laughed. My fingertips were shaking, and my chest ached. They were the ones who betrayed me, yet his words made me sound like the villain. A million words swirled in my throat, but when I finally spoke, only one question came out. “When did it start?” Was it when they always kept secrets from me, hung out alone, and claimed it was just a “coincidence” when I caught them? Or was it when the three of us ate together, and he always subconsciously catered to Harper’s taste? Ethan was silent for a few seconds before shaking his head. “Neither.” “It was four years ago, during our trip to Malibu.” During that trip, I had a terrible fever. Feeling dizzy, I went back to the hotel early to sleep. I left the two of them on the beach to watch the sunset. “We had a few drinks afterward. We couldn’t help ourselves and did it in the room right next to yours.” “It was supposed to be a one-time mistake, but later… we just couldn’t help falling in love.” As he spoke, a sense of relief washed over his face. Like he was finally able to say out loud what he had been holding in for four years. Seeing my clenched fists and my shaking body, he added. “Harper wanted to keep it from you forever. She didn’t want to ruin your happiness.” “I was the one who couldn’t take it anymore. Don’t go after her. She feels worse about this than you do.” I stared at his face, feeling the blood rush to my head. “She feels worse than I do?” “Ethan, she and I grew up together! My mother treated her like her own daughter!” “And yet, on the day my mother died, you two missed her funeral because you were sleeping together in our new apartment. Don’t you find yourselves disgusting?” I lunged forward and shoved him hard. Anger and resentment boiled inside me. He didn’t budge. He just stared at me. “I was in the wrong for that. If you’re angry, take it out on me. Don’t hurt her.” My eyes stung at his words. Once, he couldn’t bear to see me suffer even a little bit. He used to stand in front of me, shielding me from everything. But now, he was standing in front of me to protect another woman. Suddenly, all my strength drained away. I felt completely hollow. “Since you love each other so much, I’ll step aside.” “I’m not marrying you tomorrow.” He froze. The laughter around us vanished completely. The air in the room seemed to solidify. He stared at my face. After a few seconds, his tone softened. “Stop acting up. Everything has been booked.” “The makeup artist is coming at nine tomorrow. I’ll make sure they’re on time.” With that, he opened the door and walked out. The people around us looked at each other in awkward silence. No one dared to speak. Logan cleared his throat and muttered, “I’ll go check on him,” before slipping out the door. One by one, the guests dispersed, and the doors shut. I was left alone in the suite. The wedding balloons were still floating against the ceiling, and the room was fully decorated for tomorrow’s big day. Just three hours ago, Ethan had held me in his arms, laughing. He had promised me that no matter how hard the groomsmen made it for him, he would carry me over the threshold and make me his wife. But now, standing among the flowers and balloons, I only felt a deep, piercing irony. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. I looked down. It was a Snapchat message from Harper. “Chloe, I’m so sorry! The company suddenly sent me on a business trip. I had already booked my flight.” “Please don’t be mad. I’ll send you a huge wedding gift when I get back!” Her tone was urgent and apologetic, followed by several crying emojis. I stared at the screen for a long time. In the end, I only sent one reply. “Stop acting. I know everything.”

My phone vibrated on the table all night. Harper’s messages kept popping up, one after another. The screen lit up and went dark, over and over. I didn’t read them. I put my phone on silent. At nine in the morning, the door opened. Ethan walked in, followed by the makeup artist. He had changed into his charcoal-gray suit, wearing the tie I had specially bought for him. “Get your makeup done. It’s almost time.” I sat still. “I told you, the wedding is off.” His expression darkened, and he frowned. “The guests are arriving soon. What are you throwing a tantrum for now?” I met his gaze and let out a cold laugh. “I can’t pretend nothing happened. I can’t marry a man who slept with my best friend behind my back.” “Ethan, don’t you find yourself disgusting?” His lips parted, but before he could say anything, the door was pushed open. Harper rushed in. She was wearing a loose-fitting dress, her hair thrown into a messy bun. “Chloe, let me explain…” She lunged forward and grabbed my wrist. “It was just an accident!” I yanked my hand back. “Save your breath.” “Even if four years ago was an accident, is the baby an accident too?” “For four years, I treated you as my sister, while you were sleeping with my man behind my back.” Harper opened her mouth, tears streaming down her face. “Chloe, I…” I looked down, my eyes falling on her dress. On the collar, there was a small embroidered logo: Malibu Cove Recovery Center. I suddenly laughed and turned to Ethan. “No wonder you had to travel to Malibu every other week. No wonder you never picked up my calls or replied to my messages.” “You were there to take care of her. To see her.” “And there I was, praying for your flight to land safely every single day, waiting up until I got your text.” Ethan’s mouth tightened into a hard line, and he looked down. Harper sobbed loudly. “Chloe, I’m sorry… I didn’t want to hide it from you…” Ethan took two steps forward and held her up. “Harper, you just gave birth. Don’t stand for too long.” He helped her onto the sofa and knelt in front of her, gently patting her back. My gaze fell on the ring on Harper’s finger. It was three times the size of mine, the diamond facets sparkling brilliantly under the light. No wonder she thought mine was cheap. No wonder she let him give me her leftovers. “Ethan, I stayed by your side for eight years.” For a moment, I didn’t know whether to be angry at how cheap I was to him, or furious at their betrayal. “From that cramped, leaky studio apartment to this luxury penthouse. From the days we couldn’t even afford a decent meal to you making seven figures.” “And yet, the ring on my finger isn’t even a fraction of what you gave her.” “Am I really that worthless to you?” Ethan snapped up, his face pitch black. “Enough!” “She just gave birth. Her body hasn’t recovered yet. Stop it.” “Fine, I’ll stop.” I turned around, grabbed my phone from the nightstand, and walked toward the door. Before I could take more than a few steps, I ran straight into Ethan’s mother, Victoria. She was wearing a wine-red formal gown. When she saw me, the smile on her face vanished. “Chloe, what time is it? Why aren’t you in makeup? Where do you think you’re going?” “Home. The wedding is off.” She froze for a second. “What did you say?” “I said, the wedding is canceled. I’m not marrying him.” Victoria’s face flushed red with anger. “Chloe! Are you playing games with our family?!” Before she could finish her sentence, she looked past my shoulder and saw the people in the room. Harper was sitting on the sofa in her loose dress, tears streaming down her face. Victoria blinked, her expression shifting instantly. “Harper? You just had a baby! Why are you out here?” I stood frozen. When the truth finally clicked, a wave of cold mockery washed over me. Everyone knew. I was the only one kept in the dark.

Victoria brushed past my shoulder and rushed into the room. She grabbed Harper’s hands, her eyes filled with deep concern. “Harper, sweetheart, you just gave birth. Why are you out of bed?” Harper looked up at me, keeping silent. Victoria followed her gaze to me, her face instantly turning hostile. “Chloe, did you make Harper come here?” “Do you have any idea how weak she is right now? She needs rest!” I was so angry I laughed out loud. “And do you have any idea that I was the one your son was supposed to marry today?” “He had a baby with another woman behind my back, and all of you knew! Not a single person bothered to tell me!” Victoria let out a cold, arrogant laugh, as if my feelings didn’t matter to her at all. “Chloe, let’s be real. You begged for this marriage. Our family never approved of you anyway!” “You have no family background, no status. How could you ever be good enough for our Ethan?” “I told Ethan a long time ago to find someone from our own social class, but he wouldn’t listen. He let you cling onto him for years.” I couldn’t take it anymore. I clenched my fists and spat back. “No matter how ‘low-class’ I am, at least I didn’t raise a son who couldn’t keep his pants zipped and got his side-chick pregnant!” “Is this how you raise your son? Teaching him how to cheat…” Slap! Before I could finish, Victoria raised her hand and slapped me across the face. My head whipped to the side, my cheek burning like fire. Ethan rushed over. “Mom!” “Stay out of this!” Victoria pointed a finger at my nose, her face red with rage. “Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?” “I’m telling you, Chloe, if you hadn’t shamelessly clung to Ethan for the past eight years, he wouldn’t have been dragged down by you for this long!” I slowly turned my head back, feeling the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. But she only sneered, enjoying my humiliation. “Harper is a hundred times better than you. She’s sweet, polite, and never forgets to bring me gifts on holidays.” “I’ve wanted her as my daughter-in-law for a long time. Having her join our family is a blessing. As for you? You’re nothing but a curse!” “Don’t say that!” Harper cried, rushing over to me. She reached out cautiously, wanting to touch the corner of my mouth but fearing she would hurt me, before dropping her hand. “Chloe… does it hurt?” I didn’t say a word. I just suddenly remembered years ago, when I cried and told her that Ethan’s family didn’t like me. She had been so angry on my behalf, her eyes turning red as she slammed her fist onto the couch. “That’s because they have no taste! They don’t deserve our Chloe!” “I swear, if Ethan ever treats you wrong, I’ll ruin him myself!” My thoughts snapped back to the present. I looked at her face and curled my lip in a painful smile. “Harper, are you satisfied now?” She shook her head violently, tears pouring down. “No, Chloe… that’s not what I…” I didn’t wait for her to finish. I turned and walked out. Ethan called after me from behind, “Chloe!” I didn’t look back. “Chloe, listen to me.” Ethan chased after me, grabbing my arm to force me to stop. “My mom has always been like this. You’ve known her for years. She just has a sharp tongue; she didn’t mean it that way.” “Can we just get through the wedding first?” “There are so many guests here today. Don’t make things difficult for everyone.” I shook his hand off, my eyes icy cold. “Ethan, in eight years, have you ever stood up for me once?” He fell silent. “If you had stood up for me even once, I would have felt those eight years were worth it.” “But you didn’t. Not even once…” By the end, my voice was barely a whisper. I turned around and walked out of the hotel lobby, never looking back.

I took a cab home. My phone kept vibrating the entire way, but I didn’t look at it. I turned it off, leaning my head against the cold window and closing my eyes. When I got home, the house was filled with signs of our upcoming wedding. Red ribbons hung in the living room, and wedding decorations covered the walls. The potted plants on the balcony were ones Ethan had bought from the market, knowing I was in a bad mood a few weeks ago. He had said that a little green in the house would make me feel better. I went into the bedroom, knelt down, and started packing my bags. When I opened the bottom drawer, I saw our photo album buried underneath. I opened the first page. It was a picture of us on the day we moved into this apartment. I was wearing a white dress, standing in the middle of the living room, while Ethan had his arm around my shoulder, smiling proudly. Like a hero returning from a victorious battle. He had said, “Chloe, I’ve finally given you a home.” I didn’t turn to the next page. I closed the album and put it back. Halfway through packing, the door swung open. Ethan rushed into the bedroom. Seeing what I was doing, he slammed his hand down on my wrist. “Where do you think you’re going?” “Isn’t it obvious?” I let out a cold laugh, my eyes filled with mockery. “Your mother hates me. I’m moving out to make room for you and Harper.” His face darkened instantly. “Chloe, is this really necessary? How long are you going to keep throwing this tantrum?” “Do you know how many guests are waiting at the venue right now? And you’re telling me you’re leaving?” “Are you determined to ruin everything today?!” I stared at him, silent. He took a deep breath, his tone softening slightly. But the words that came out of his mouth were like a physical blade, stabbing straight into my heart. “Chloe, when your dad cheated on your mom, your mom still stayed and raised you.” “Even your mother could handle it. Why can’t you?” I froze completely. “Ethan, say that again.” He looked away, his voice laced with irritation. “Am I wrong? Your mother tolerated your father. Why can’t you tolerate me?” “Shut up.” My voice was trembling. “My mother stayed because she was kind-hearted, and she did it for me. Do you have any idea how miserable her life was?” “I will not follow in her footsteps.” “Because I promised her I would make myself happy.” Before Ethan could reply, footsteps sounded outside the door. Harper had arrived. She was panting heavily. The moment she walked in, she threw herself in front of me, grabbing my arm. “Chloe, please don’t go. It’s all my fault. I’ll leave!” “I’ll never show my face in front of you two again. I’ll give everything back to you…” “Harper, what’s the point of saying this now?” I tried to pull my arm away, but her grip only tightened. “You slept together, you have a baby. Do you honestly expect me to pretend nothing happened and keep playing best friends with you?” She shook her head frantically, her nails digging deep into my skin. “No, Chloe, that’s not it…” “Listen to me, I really know I was wrong. Please don’t go…” “Enough! Let go of me!” I shoved her away with all my might. She lost her balance, falling backward onto the floor with a painful gasp. “Ah!” “Chloe! What is wrong with you?!” Ethan slammed his hand against my chest, shoving me back. His force was brutal. I stumbled back a few steps, my lower back crashing hard against the sharp edge of the vanity table. A sharp, burning pain flared up my spine. But he didn’t even look at me. He immediately knelt down to pull Harper into his arms, his face written with pure panic. “Harper! Are you okay? Where does it hurt?” Harper clung to his chest, crying. “My back hurts… and my stomach feels weird…” “Don’t worry, I’m taking you to the hospital.” Ethan scooped her up in his arms and walked toward the door. As he passed me, he stopped for a split second. “Chloe, no matter what, she is still your best friend. You went too far!” “Tomorrow’s wedding is postponed. When you finally come to your senses, we’ll talk about getting married.” With that, the door slammed shut. The bedroom fell dead silent, save for the sound of my own ragged breathing. I held onto the vanity, slowly forcing myself to stand straight. My lower back was throbbing in pain. Looking up at the giant wedding portrait on the wall, I laughed. But as I laughed, tears finally spilled over, burning my cheeks. I wiped my face, grabbed my suitcase, and walked out of the apartment without a single backward glance. When I got into the cab, the driver asked where I wanted to go. I looked out the window one last time and said coldly, “To the airport.”

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After our college reunion, I ended up drunk and slept with my ex-boyfriend. Overwhelmed with guilt and feeling like I had utterly failed my husband, I decided to confess everything. I was ready to face whatever consequences my betrayal would bring. But when I got home, my husband wasn’t there. His laptop was still logged into his Instagram, and a message suddenly popped up on the screen. [That drug was incredibly strong. Chloe had absolutely no idea what was happening. She’s already left the hotel looking completely devastated. Just wait for her to ask for a divorce.] The message was from my ex, Tyler. My husband’s reply came almost instantly: [Once Chloe signs the divorce papers and walks away with nothing, your five hundred thousand dollars will be wired immediately. Not a penny less.] 1 Before I could even process what I was looking at, Marcus’s account logged out. My hands shook as I slammed the laptop shut. Staring at the black screen, I forced a pathetic smile. “I must be seeing things. Marcus loves me so much, he would never…” The words died in my throat. My chest tightened with a sharp, suffocating pain, and tears began to pour down my face. I covered my face with my hands and sobbed uncontrollably. I hadn’t even wanted to go to that college reunion last night. But Marcus had insisted. “The company is expanding right now, Chloe. You should go. Who knows? You might run into some potential clients.” Ever since I stepped back from the business to focus on starting a family, I had left the daily operations of the company my parents left me in Marcus’s hands. I thought he was just under a lot of pressure, so I agreed. At the dinner, I ran into my ex, Tyler. Our old classmates started teasing us, forcing us to sit next to each other. Since we had broken up ten years ago and I was happily married, I didn’t think much of it and sat down. Throughout the dinner, Tyler kept his distance and behaved like a perfect gentleman, only pouring my drinks and passing the food. But after a few drinks, my head started spinning, and I completely blacked out. When I woke up the next morning, Tyler and I were lying naked in a hotel bed. The soreness and aching in my body told me exactly what had happened. Tyler had looked utterly devastated, slapping himself across the face, begging for my forgiveness, and crying. I had scrambled into my clothes and fled the hotel in a panic. I felt so guilty. I didn’t want to lie to Marcus. A mistake was a mistake. I was prepared to confess and accept the consequences of my betrayal. But I never could have imagined that this was all Marcus’s sick, twisted trap! Now that I knew the truth, I wasn’t going to let them get away with this. I wiped my tears, picked up my phone with trembling hands, and dialed 91

“I want to report an assault. I was drugged and raped.” After a grueling medical examination at the hospital, a female detective escorted me back to my house. “Once the toxicology report comes back and we secure the evidence chain, we will move in to arrest the suspects,” she assured me. “Thank you,” I whispered. 2 I dragged my exhausted body into the house. Marcus immediately rushed over. “Babe! Where have you been? I was so worried!” Looking at his deeply concerned face, my heart went cold. I stared straight into his eyes. “I didn’t come home all night. Aren’t you going to ask me where I was?” Marcus smiled warmly, pulling me into a hug. “I called you last night, but Ashley answered. She said you had too much to drink and were sleeping it off at her place. “I remembered you guys were close in college, so I didn’t want to disturb you.” Ashley had indeed been at the reunion. But we sat on opposite sides of the room. We barely said two words to each other, let alone caught up. How did she get dragged into this? Marcus, Tyler, Ashley… what was their connection? My mind was spinning, and a sudden wave of nausea hit me. I rushed to the bathroom and threw up into the toilet. Marcus gently patted my back. “Look at you, drinking yourself sick. You know how much it hurts me to see you like this.” He handed me a glass of warm water. As I reached for it, our fingers brushed. For a split second, I caught a flash of pure disgust in his eyes. My heart sank into a dark, frozen abyss. After washing up, I went to lie down in the bedroom. Marcus followed me in, casually bringing up the topic. “Babe, you seem really off today. Did something happen last night?” I kept quiet. He continued, “You know, the most important things in a marriage are loyalty and trust. I trust you one hundred percent, so don’t carry any unnecessary burdens, okay?” I closed my eyes, letting out a silent, bitter laugh. Marcus really knew me too well. He knew that the more “understanding” he acted, the more eaten up by guilt I would be. If I hadn’t seen those messages, I would have broken down, confessed everything, and willingly signed away all my assets just to free myself from the guilt. Seeing that I remained silent, Marcus pulled the blanket over my shoulders. “Get some rest then. We can talk later.” I woke up very late the next morning. Marcus had already left for the office. On the nightstand was a glass of water and a single white pill. It was the prenatal vitamin he had been giving me every day for the past three years. We had been trying for a baby for three years with no luck. All my medical checks came back normal, yet I could never get pregnant. I used to blame myself constantly, feeling like I was failing him. But now, I realized it might not have been my fault at all. I slipped the pill back into the bottle, grabbed my keys, and drove straight to a private clinic. The doctor took one look at the pill and sighed. “This is a high-dosage contraceptive. It has to be taken daily to prevent pregnancy.” Of course it was. I let out a hollow laugh, feeling as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. I went home, changed into a sharp business suit I hadn’t worn in years, put on some light makeup, and drove to the office. Since I hadn’t stepped foot in the company in three years, the receptionist blocked my way at the front desk. “Excuse me, ma’am, do you have an appointment? Who are you here to see?” I frowned. “I don’t need an appointment to enter my own company.” I started walking past her. The receptionist quickly ran ahead and blocked me. “I’m sorry, but you can’t just walk in. Tell me who you’re looking for, and I’ll page them.” I took a deep breath. “I’m here to see Marcus Vance.” She smiled politely. “Mr. Vance is only available by appointment. No exceptions.” I chuckled, amused by the sheer audacity. “Look at me carefully. I am the sole owner and legal representative of Flora Corp. Marcus is merely managing it in my absence. Do they not teach you who actually owns the company when you get hired?” The receptionist stared at me in confusion. “You must be mistaken. Mr. Vance is the only boss we know.” Wow, Marcus. He had truly gone out of his way to erase my existence from my own company. As I was trying to figure out how to handle this, an older employee walked past, recognized me, and immediately gasped. “What are you doing? Open your eyes! This is Ms. Sterling, the actual owner of the company!” The receptionist went pale and immediately stepped aside, stammering apologies. I looked at the older employee. “Thank you. But from now on, please address me as Director Sterling.” The employee blinked in surprise, then quickly nodded. “Of course, Director Sterling!” I walked straight to the CEO’s office. But when I pushed the door open, a very familiar face was sitting at the desk. 3 “Ashley?” “Chloe!” Ashley stood up, looking entirely unbothered. I frowned. “What are you doing here? Where is Marcus?” Ashley smirked. “Mr. Vance is out at a meeting. I am his executive assistant now. Didn’t he tell you?” Seeing the subtle malice and triumph in her eyes, I immediately understood what was going on. No wonder Ashley had helped Marcus set me up. But I wasn’t here today to catch them in an affair. I said calmly, “Ms. Brooks, page all department heads. We are having an emergency board meeting in ten minutes.” Ashley froze, then burst into a condescending laugh. “Chloe, have you lost your mind? Sure, you might be the boss’s wife, but Marcus runs this place. And…” She paused, looking me up and down with a nasty sneer. “With the way things are going, I highly doubt you’ll be the boss’s wife for much longer.” I stepped closer, narrowing my eyes. “Two nights ago, you told Marcus I was sleeping at your place.” Ashley raised an eyebrow. “You should be thanking me. I gave you and Tyler a chance to relight your old flame. “But you know, secrets always get out. If I were you, I’d confess to Marcus as soon as possible. It might make the divorce less messy.” I scoffed. “My marriage is none of your business. I will ask you one more time. Are you going to page the department heads, or not?” Ashley rolled her eyes. “Sorry. I only take orders from Mr. Vance.” With that, she turned on her high heels and strutted out of the room. I didn’t waste any more time. I picked up the desk phone and dialed HR. The HR manager, Mr. Henderson, was a new hire. He sounded hesitant when he spoke to me. “Mrs. Vance, holding a meeting without Mr. Vance’s approval… I don’t think that’s appropriate.” Without saying a word, I walked over to the safe, pulled out the original incorporation documents and the business license, and held them up. “Look at the name on these papers. Chloe Sterling. “This company has belonged to me and my family from day one. Marcus Vance was only a temporary manager.” Mr. Henderson’s tone changed instantly. “Director Sterling!” I let out a breath. “Get everyone in the conference room. Starting today, I am taking back full control of Flora Corp. “Also, Ms. Brooks just informed me she only takes orders from Marcus. Draft her termination papers immediately. She’s fired.” “Understood, Director Sterling!” An hour later, I was sitting at the head of the conference room table. Marcus had replaced a lot of the staff, but there were still several veteran managers who recognized me. When I announced my return to active management, the room went silent. The expressions on their faces ranged from surprise to deep concern. I looked around the room. “There is one more thing. I believe some of you know my maiden name is Sterling. My grandmother is Eleanor Sterling, the chairwoman of Sterling Enterprises.” The moment the words left my mouth, the room erupted into whispers. “No wonder Sterling Enterprises asked about her when we tried to pitch to them last year!” “If we partner with the Sterling Group, our company will scale to heights we never dreamed of!” “We fully support you, Director Sterling!” My grandmother indeed ran the massive Sterling Enterprises. But years ago, my father had cut ties with her to marry my mother. Under the current circumstances, however, using my grandmother’s name was the only way to quickly secure the loyalty of these managers. Before I could continue, the heavy conference doors were slammed open. Ashley marched in, her face red with rage. “Chloe Sterling! How dare you fire me while Marcus is out! “Just wait. I’ve already called Marcus and told him what you’re doing. He’s on his way here right now. Let’s see how you explain this to him!” Before I could even speak, Mr. Henderson, the HR manager, stood up. “Ashley, you have been officially terminated. Please leave the premises immediately, or security will escort you out.” Ashley stared at him, dumbfounded. “Are you insane, Mr. Henderson? You’re taking orders from her? She has no authority to fire me!” Mr. Henderson’s face was cold. “She is the sole owner and CEO of this company. She has every right.” Ashley let out a hysterical laugh. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been here for two years! I know who the boss is! Don’t let this housewife trick you!” The admin manager picked up the phone. “Security, please come to the main conference room. We have a terminated employee causing a disturbance.” Within seconds, two security guards walked in, grabbed Ashley by her arms, and began dragging her out. Ashley struggled wildly, gripping the doorframe and screaming, “Chloe, you bitch! Just wait until Marcus gets back! He’s going to ruin you!” Other employees in the hallway began to gather around, whispering and watching the drama unfold. Just as I was about to call the police to have her removed for trespassing, Marcus’s voice boomed down the hallway. “What is going on here? Get back to work, all of you!” The crowd quickly dispersed, and the managers in the conference room stood up. Ashley immediately burst into tears, throwing herself into Marcus’s arms. “Marcus! Thank God you’re here! Your wife came in and fired me out of nowhere! She’s accusing us of having an affair! How could she humiliate us like this?” Marcus’s face darkened as he walked into the room. When he saw me sitting calmly at the head of the table, he froze. “Chloe? What are you doing in that chair?”

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I was a billionaire heiress of the Vance family in New York. Ten years ago, against all objections, I married Carter Miller, a penniless estate security guard. After our wedding, he treated me like a queen. He even carried warm water to the bedside every night just to wash my feet. The Manhattan socialites who used to mock me for being blind ended up burning with jealousy, wishing they had married such a perfect man. Unfortunately, my health was always fragile, and I died of illness at the age of thirty. After my death, my soul couldn’t bear to leave him, so I hovered by his side. But I never expected what would happen the very next day after my funeral! My “perfect” husband, who had been crying his eyes out by my deathbed, couldn’t wait to marry four women at once! Only then did I realize that his ten years of pampering me were nothing but a patient act to steal my family’s fortune. Even my declining health was all thanks to the “healthy herbal tonic” he served me every single night! Watching them divide my billions in front of my funeral portrait, a surge of pure rage hit my soul. I gasped, and my eyes snapped open. I was alive again!

With trembling hands, I grabbed the phone from the nightstand and lit up the screen. The date displayed on the screen was—ten years ago! I had traveled back in time! I was back to the days before I married that trash, Carter Miller! Just then, there was a knock on the bedroom door. Maria, our housekeeper, called out from outside: “Miss Serena, are you awake? Mr. Miller is downstairs. He’s causing quite a scene, saying he needs to see you urgently.” Mr. Miller? Carter Miller! The warmth in my eyes vanished instantly. “I got it. Tell him to wait.” I turned around, walked into my walk-in closet, and leisurely picked out a silk slip dress. Then, I spent my time applying a cold, sharp makeup look. After dragging my feet for over an hour, I finally stepped into my heels and walked out of the bedroom. Descending the spiral staircase, I saw Carter sitting on the velvet sofa. Hearing the click of my heels, Carter looked up abruptly. When he saw me coming down, a flash of awe crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by impatience. “What took you so long?!” Carter stood up, complaining to me with zero respect. “I’ve been waiting for you for over an hour, Serena!” Hearing his whining tone made me want to throw up. In my past life, he had used this exact persona—”I may be poor, but I don’t care about your money, and I’m not afraid of you”—to make me fall head over heels for him. I didn’t run up to hug him like I used to. Instead, I crossed my arms and looked down at him coldly. “What do you want?” Carter choked on my icy attitude. His arrogant demeanor weakened a bit, but he quickly put on a show of having his pride wounded. “Serena, did you pay my mother’s $300,000 hospital bill behind my back?!” Carter looked as if he had suffered a great humiliation. “How many times do I have to tell you? I will earn the money to treat my mother myself! I don’t need your charity!” Watching his righteous performance, I sneered inwardly. In my past life, when I heard this, I would immediately apologize to him, telling him I only did it because it broke my heart to see him working three part-time jobs after his guard shifts. To protect his fragile, ridiculous ego, I had even secretly upgraded his mother to the best VIP suite under his name. And what did he do? He enjoyed everything my money bought while playing the victim of my “wealthy arrogance.” What a natural-born actor. “Oh? Really?” I glanced at him coldly, a mocking smirk playing on my lips. “In that case, fine. I’ll call my assistant in a minute and tell him to claw back that $300,000 from the hospital.” The moment those words left my mouth, the fake anger on Carter’s face froze. He never expected me to play along! Carter panicked, but he quickly forced himself to stay calm and yelled at me. “Serena! What do you take me for?!” He looked like he was about to burst with rage. “Do you think you can do whatever you want to me just because you have money?! I won’t buy into your rich-girl games!” Looking at his hypocritical face, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “What are you laughing at?!” Carter’s face flushed bright red, stung by my laughter.

Right then, my phone buzzed inside my bag. It was my dad. I raised my hand and gestured for Carter to shut up. Carter gritted his teeth, forcing himself to swallow his words. From the other end of the line, my father’s helpless voice came through: “Serena, I know you’ve been close with that security guard lately. But you two belong to different worlds. He can’t give you a good life. Stop being so stubborn. I’ve arranged a match for you. He’s Julian Sterling, the heir of the Sterling family. He’s handsome and highly respected. Just listen to me, meet him, and see how it goes, okay?” In my past life, when I heard this, I had a massive fight with my dad. I had screamed that I would marry no one but Carter, even threatening to starve myself, breaking my dad’s heart. But in this life… I looked at the ungrateful man in front of me with a half-smile. “An arranged match? Sure, Dad. Send me the address. I’ll be there on time this afternoon.” Hearing me agree so easily, my dad was thrilled. He quickly said some sweet words and sent the address to my phone. After I hung up, Carter stared at me, his face turning pale and green. “Serena, have you had enough of this drama?” “Do you think going on a date with some random guy will make me jealous? You don’t have to play hard to get just to get my attention!” “Carter!” I snapped. “You’ve been thinking way too highly of yourself lately. Remember your place.” “You!” Carter gritted his teeth. “Fine! Don’t regret this!” He threw a tantrum, turned around, and stormed out of my house. Watching his back, I smiled with pure disdain. Regret? The only thing I regretted was being blind enough to love a piece of trash like you in my past life! That afternoon, I arrived at the high-end cafe my dad had texted me. In my past life, due to Carter’s brainwashing, I absolutely despised business marriages. I hadn’t even given the Sterling heir a single glance. But this time, when I walked into the reserved lounge and saw the man sitting there, I couldn’t help but praise my dad’s taste. He wore a perfectly tailored dark Italian suit. He was stunning. “Miss Vance, nice to meet you. I’m Julian Sterling.” He stood up, politely offering his hand. His voice was deep and magnetic. “Mr. Sterling, the pleasure is mine.” I smiled and shook his hand. The date was surprisingly pleasant. Julian was not only incredibly handsome, but he was also elegant, polite, and brilliant. We talked about everything from venture capital to art collection. We clicked perfectly. Over the next few days, Julian asked me out for various reasons. We went to concerts, visited art galleries, and even went horseback riding at a private club. I hadn’t thought about the disgusting name “Carter” for days. Until one evening. After a dinner at a Michelin-star restaurant, Julian gentlemanly drove me home. “It’s still early. Would you like to come in for some tea?” I stood at the door, smiling as I invited him. “I’d love to.” Julian smiled back, his beautiful eyes sparkling with warmth. I scanned my fingerprint to unlock the door, pushed it open, and was about to invite him in. But as soon as I looked up, I saw Carter sitting comfortably on my living room sofa! Seeing me bring another man home, Carter’s face turned incredibly dark. He looked at me, his tone accusing: “Serena, it’s so late. Why are you bringing another man home?” I frowned, feeling sickened by his tone. “Carter, watch your tongue. I am your employer.” Being scolded in front of an outsider, Carter’s face flushed bright red instantly. “What are you standing there for?” I ordered him around like any other servant. “Go to the kitchen and brew some black tea for Mr. Sterling.” Hearing my words, the resentment in Carter’s eyes almost spilled over. But forced by my status, he could only turn and walk toward the kitchen with reluctance. “Mr. Sterling, please have a seat. I’ll go change into something more comfortable.” I turned to Julian and smiled. “Sure.” Julian nodded, giving me a deep, knowing look. I went upstairs and changed into a set of cozy loungewear.

Just as I reached the turn of the stairs on my way down, a loud crash echoed from the living room, followed by Carter’s painful scream! I rushed downstairs. I saw Carter clutching his left hand, crouching by the coffee table in pain. Meanwhile, Julian stood nearby, looking completely calm. “What happened?” I walked over, frowning. “Serena! He pushed me!” Seeing me come down, Carter immediately started playing the victim. “I was just trying to serve him tea, but he was jealous that I get to be close to you. He deliberately threw the boiling tea at me!” Julian met my gaze, his voice steady: “Miss Vance, I didn’t push him. He tripped.” I looked down at Carter’s hand. The so-called “burn” was barely the size of a fingernail. It didn’t even blister. Looking at Carter’s pathetic act, I let out a cold laugh. “Cut the drama, Carter.” “It’s just a tiny red spot. Why are you whining like a child? Just put a band-aid on it.” Hearing me side with an outsider, Carter couldn’t hold back his anger anymore. “Serena Vance!” Ignoring his rage, I turned to Julian with an apologetic smile. “Mr. Sterling, I’m so sorry. My servant doesn’t know his manners. I apologize for the scene. It’s getting late, so why don’t you head home and get some rest? Let’s hang out another day.” Julian glanced at the shaking, furious Carter, and a faint smirk appeared on his face. “Alright. Rest well, Serena. Goodnight.” After Julian left, only Carter and I remained in the living room. Carter stared at me with red eyes, his voice filled with disbelief and hurt: “Serena… I feel like you’ve changed.” Looking at his hurt expression, I felt absolutely nothing. “Have I?” With that, I didn’t even look at him again. I turned around and walked upstairs. Over the next few days, he didn’t dare to act high and dry in front of me anymore. Instead, he started clinging to me like cheap gum, trying desperately to show his worth. Every morning, before I even woke up, he would prepare breakfast. When I left for work, he would open the car door for me. He even learned a few clumsy French pick-up lines to please me. Faced with his groveling behavior, I wasn’t touched, nor did I kick him out. I simply enjoyed his service guilt-free. Occasionally, I would answer Julian’s calls right in front of him, or dress up beautifully to go on romantic dates with Julian. Every time this happened, Carter would lower himself even more, trying to win me back. I knew he was terrified. He was terrified of losing me—his ticket to a life of luxury. He was terrified that his dream of marrying into wealth would shatter. And when a person is consumed by fear and anxiety, they easily make mistakes. I was quietly waiting for the day he would show his true, ugly colors. Finally, the opportunity came. These days, my company was preparing for a massive international merger. I worked late for several nights in a row, coming home past midnight. Tonight, I was sitting in my study, double-checking the final financial reports on my computer. There was a soft knock on the door, and Carter walked in carrying a tray. “Serena, still working?” Carter walked over and set the tray down. On the tray was a bowl of dark, pungent medicinal herbal tea. “I saw how tired you’ve been lately. You look pale. I brewed this special organic herbal tea for you.” Carter looked at me, his eyes filled with warmth and care. “Drink it while it’s hot, then get some sleep.” Smelling that familiar, slightly bitter scent, my hand holding the pen froze. In my past life, he had looked at me with this exact loving expression, serving me this toxic tea every single night. I had drunk it for ten years until my body completely fell apart, and I died in agony. I took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to kill him right then and there. I picked up the bowl, slowly bringing it to my lips. Carter stood by, his eyes shining with a hidden, desperate anticipation. Just as the rim of the bowl was about to touch my lips… I stopped. I slowly lowered the bowl and pushed it right in front of Carter. “Serena? What’s wrong?” Carter was stunned. I leaned back in my chair, staring at him. “I just remembered a rule in the Vance family.” “What rule?” Carter asked, confused. “Any untried food must be tasted by a servant first.” “You drink it.” The moment I said this, Carter’s face turned pale. “Serena… what… what do you mean by that?” He looked at me in disbelief. “Are you doubting me? Do you think I’d poison you?!” His eyes turned red instantly, and he cried out in hurt: “I might be poor, but my love for you is pure! How can you treat me like some shady criminal?!” I said nothing. Seeing my cold face, Carter gritted his teeth. “Fine! If you don’t trust me, I’ll show you!” He grabbed the bowl, tilted his head, and gulped down the dark tea in seconds! Then, he slammed the empty bowl back onto the tray. “Are you satisfied now?!” He stormed out of the study. I sneered. So what if he drank it? It was a slow, chronic poison. Drinking it once or twice wouldn’t do any harm. Once he left, I opened a hidden folder on my computer and pulled up the mansion’s security cameras. My dad had installed these tiny, discreet cameras for my safety when the estate was built. Carter knew nothing about them. On the screen, Carter hadn’t left the mansion. He walked downstairs, made sure no one was around, and slipped into the first-floor utility room. On the camera, all the warmth on Carter’s face was replaced by a deadly chill. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. As soon as the call connected, he whispered angrily: “The plan has to change! That bitch Serena suspects something’s wrong with the tea!” Though his voice was low, the high-definition mic in the utility room picked up every single word. The person on the other end said something, making Carter’s expression look even more vicious. “I know! We can’t wait anymore. We need a faster method. Just make sure everything on your end is ready.” Hanging up, Carter paced around the room for a bit before walking out as if nothing had happened. I knew he was finally panicking and getting desperate.

I dialed a private investigator’s number. I ordered them to dig up everything on Carter. At the next high-profile charity gala, I made sure to arrive arm-in-arm with Julian. When reporters asked about our relationship, I leaned against Julian’s shoulder and announced with a smile: “I’ve accepted Mr. Sterling’s proposal. The date of our engagement party will be announced soon.” Julian was slightly surprised, but he played along perfectly, planting a tender kiss on my forehead. Not only that, but I also paid off several major New York gossip outlets. The next morning, the headlines flooded the city. #Heiress Serena Vance to Marry Sterling Heir! Poor Guard’s Billionaire Dream Shattered!# #A Guard Trying to Climb the Social Ladder? Serena Vance Announces Engagement, Making Carter Miller the Laughingstock of NYC!# I expected Carter to confront me after such humiliation. But to my surprise, he held it in. He still showed up at my house every day, acting even more submissive and attentive. It was as if he could swallow any insult just to stay by my side. His behavior only made me more alert. A silent dog bites the hardest. Three days later, the private investigator sent me the report. The file showed that over the past week, Carter had been meeting with Leo, our family’s private chauffeur. Leo’s son had piled up massive gambling debts and was being chased by dangerous loan sharks. Carter had offered Leo five million dollars to cut the brakes of my red Porsche and stage an accident! Once I died, Carter would use a forged will to claim my entire estate. But what shocked me the most was the last page of the report. The PI found out that the person pulling the strings behind Carter was actually someone inside my own family! However, the mastermind was extremely cautious, and the PI couldn’t pin down their exact identity yet. Cold sweat soaked my back as I read the report. It turned out that the person who wanted me dead wasn’t just Carter, but also a “dear relative” of mine! I forced myself to calm down. Since I couldn’t find the mastermind, I had to lure them out. Leaning back in my chair, a brilliant plan took shape in my mind. Since they wanted me dead so badly… Fine. I would give them exactly what they wanted and “die” once!

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During a car crash three years ago, I shielded my boyfriend, Ethan, and my best friend, Vivian. That crash left me in a vegetative state. Fortunately, they stayed by my side and took care of me. Three years later, I finally woke up. But through my blurry vision, I heard Ethan say: “Chloe, I know you’re in pain. Letting go might be the best thing for you.” I opened my eyes in disbelief. He was actually pulling the oxygen mask off my face. Before I could even make a sound, the door pushed open. My dad walked in. “Ethan, aren’t you and Vivian supposed to get your marriage license at City Hall today? Leave Chloe to me.” I never expected that after fighting through the darkness for three years, surviving on pure willpower, the reward waiting for me would be everyone wanting me dead. “Chloe? You’re… you’re awake?” Ethan’s hand trembled violently as he pulled away from my face. That was when I noticed Vivian and my parents were also in the room. So, they had all agreed to give up on me? After a three-year coma, every inch of my body ached with unspeakable pain. But none of it compared to the agony in my heart right now. I opened my mouth, but my throat was so dry I couldn’t make a sound. Vivian grabbed my hands, her own shaking violently. Then, she let go and slapped herself hard across the face. “Chloe, I’m so sorry.” “Ethan and I… we got together. We thought… we thought you…” Thought I would never wake up, right? “Chloe, don’t blame Vivian. I was the one who fell in love first. I confessed to her.” “She didn’t want to accept it at first. If you want to blame someone, blame me.” Ethan gently touched Vivian’s cheek, his voice filled with protective tenderness. “Enough, Chloe. Can you stop making a scene?” My mom stepped in, shielding the two of them like a protective lioness. “If Ethan and Vivian hadn’t taken care of you these past three years, you’d be dead by now.” “For your sake, one of them went to medical school for neurology, and the other became a physical therapist. I gave them my blessing to be together.” My mom stood in front of them, defensive. But I hadn’t even done anything. I had just opened my eyes. Was that “making a scene”? Tears slipped silently from the corners of my eyes. I never imagined that after fighting so hard in the dark for three years, this was the reality awaiting my return. “Mom, it’s not Chloe’s fault,” Vivian said, stepping out from behind my mother. Her face was wet with tears, and she looked at Ethan with deep reluctance. My breath caught. She called her “Mom” so naturally, as if she had done it thousands of times. In these three years, Ethan had become her fiancé, and my mother had become hers too? “Now that she’s awake, everything should go back to the way it was. I’m sorry, Ethan.” “You should marry Chloe. I’m stepping down.” Her voice was choked and slow. Even I felt a pang of pity listening to her. “No! I don’t agree. Vivian, you’re the one I love now.” Ethan refused instantly. He grabbed Vivian’s wrist, refusing to let go, his eyes turning red. Vivian fell to her knees in front of him. “Please, Ethan. We already owe Chloe too much. If it weren’t for us, she wouldn’t have ended up in a coma.” “Just marry her.” Ethan looked at me, tears in his eyes, as if he were making the most heartbreaking sacrifice of his life. “Fine. I’ll marry her.” They decided everything among themselves. Not a single person asked me what I wanted. My heart felt completely numb. My breathing turned shallow and rapid, and the heart monitor suddenly began to beep frantically. As the medical staff rushed in and wheeled me away, I couldn’t see if they followed. All I knew was that by the time all the tests were done, the waiting area outside was completely empty. The doctor sighed and wheeled me back. Outside my room, just as she was about to open the door, we heard my parents’ voices from inside. “Why did Chloe have to wake up now? The medical bills from these past three years have left us drowned in debt.” “The future rehab costs are going to be astronomical. Honey, I just…” “It’s not your fault.” My dad seemed to be comforting my mom, or maybe himself. After a long silence, he spoke again. “Why couldn’t she have just passed away peacefully? It would have been better for everyone.” The doctor’s hand froze on the doorknob. She looked at me with deep sympathy. A suffocating feeling choked my throat. My chest heaved, but I couldn’t catch my breath. “Is rehab really that expensive?” I whispered. She looked at me gently. “I actually have a slot for an experimental clinical trial for coma recovery. It’s in the UK. The technology is still in its early stages, but it’s completely free. Do you want to go?”

A long time later, the doctor pushed the door open. My parents, faces stained with tears, were still comforting Vivian. “Vivian, dear, we know you have a good heart. But Chloe is in no state to be a proper wife to Ethan anyway.” “I’ll talk to her. You and Ethan should still go get your marriage license.” The sound of the door opening interrupted them. Ethan instinctively walked toward me, but he hesitated when he passed Vivian. Only after she nodded did he take over my wheelchair from the nurse. “Chloe, your parents didn’t mean it that way. Don’t worry, I will still marry you.” His knuckles turned white from gripping the wheelchair. I could tell how much force he was using. “No need…” I started to speak slowly, but Vivian cut me off. She threw herself onto her knees in front of me. She looked just as beautiful as she did three years ago, only more mature and alluring now. Meanwhile, my reflection in the window was skeletal, sallow, and practically dead. “Chloe, I know I ruined everything. You don’t have to reject him. I can really step aside.” “I just want your forgiveness. Please?” “We grew up together. After my parents passed away, you were the one who took care of me. I can’t lose you.” She wept against my knees. I looked up. Ethan was staring at me, his eyes cold and hard. “I said I would marry you. We’ll go back to how things were. Just do it so she doesn’t feel so guilty. Just…” “I don’t forgive you,” I said, cutting Ethan off. Vivian’s crying stopped instantly. One of her hands instinctively rested on her stomach. “I understand.” Before we could process what that gesture meant, Vivian turned and ran out of the room. Ethan’s face darkened. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Chloe! Vivian literally got down on her knees to beg for your forgiveness! What more do you want?” “She gave up her own dreams to study physical therapy just to take care of you these past three years.” “Yes, we fell in love. But she’s willing to step aside, and I’m willing to marry you. When are you going to stop throwing this tantrum!” I looked at his familiar face. It was still handsome. To them, these three years were a painful, agonizing trial. But to me, it felt like I had just taken a long nap. I woke up to find my best friend and my boyfriend together. How was I supposed to just forgive that? My jaw burned from his grip. Ethan seemed to realize what he was doing and let go, his voice cracking. “Chloe, I wish I was the one in that wheelchair right now.” “Anything would be better than being tortured by you like this.” My body couldn’t stop shaking. I felt like a criminal, standing trial under the accusations of Ethan and my parents. The interrogation only stopped when Ethan’s phone buzzed with a Snapchat notification. He glanced at his phone, and his grip suddenly tightened around my wrist. “Chloe! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Vivian just went to get an abortion!” “Now my baby is gone. Are you happy now?” My eyes widened in disbelief. They even had a baby? It had only been three years. They weren’t just getting a marriage license; they were sleeping together. Yet, they showed absolutely no remorse in front of me. A sudden wave of nausea hit me. I felt like throwing up, but neither of them noticed. “Chloe, if you keep acting like this, I don’t think I can bring myself to marry you anymore.” With that, Ethan rushed out with my frantic parents to find Vivian, leaving me completely alone in the cold room. They had abandoned me. Again. I wiggled my fingers, looked at the nurse who came in for rounds, and whispered: “Please tell Dr. Carter. I want to go to that clinical trial in the UK.” “The sooner, the better.”

By the time they brought Vivian back, Dr. Carter had already given me the exact date. I was leaving in a month. Vivian’s face was paper-white, with tear tracks drying on her cheeks. Ethan claimed that Vivian’s body was too weak after the abortion, so he put her in my comfortable private room bed, moving me to the stiff, uncomfortable pull-out cot beside it. My body was already aching all over, and after the bed swap, I couldn’t sleep at all, night after night. They were too busy fussing over Vivian to care about me, even letting a male orderly give me my sponge baths. “Mom, please… can you ask for a female nurse?” Losing my privacy made me forget my pride. I cried and begged my mother, but she remained silent, carefully feeding Vivian chicken soup spoonful by spoonful. Ethan looked at me with a cold, detached expression. “To medical professionals, gender doesn’t matter.” “Besides, look at yourself. Do you really think anyone is looking at you like that?” My body froze. I couldn’t say another word. After the orderly left, I took my cracked, old phone from before the accident and tried to follow physical therapy videos. The shattered screen often sliced my fingertips. Without professional safety gear, my body was quickly covered in dark bruises from falling. “Chloe, are you really that desperate to marry me?” Ethan sneered as he tucked Vivian back into bed, turning to mock me. “Vivian already told me your self-rehab routine is completely wrong. Stop hurting yourself just to make us feel guilty. It’s pathetic.” Vivian always offered “advice” whenever I practiced, but her words did nothing but ruin my rhythm. I paused my movements and spoke softly. “Ethan, I told you. I have no intention of marrying you. I just want my dignity back.” “That’s all.” At first, he had felt a sliver of guilt toward me. But every time he instinctively tried to help, Vivian would look at him with such devastating heartbreak, threatening to discharge herself or move rooms. So now, all he felt for me was pure annoyance. “Vivian is discharged today. You’re coming home too.” “You can take your time with rehab. Start thinking about your parents for once.” He looked down, carefully helping Vivian put on her coat and shoes. I silently wrapped my cardigan around myself, letting the cold draft of the AC make my stiff joints throb. After a bumpy ride, we finally arrived home. My mom opened the door, her face lighting up when she saw Vivian and Ethan. But when she looked down at me, a flash of disgust crossed her eyes. “You both went through medical issues. Why do you look so filthy and neglected?” Isn’t the answer obvious? Vivian was pampered and taken care of, while I, a newly awakened coma patient, was forced to fend for myself. Maybe out of a lingering speck of guilt, Ethan spoke up quietly. “Don’t blame Chloe, Mrs. Bennett. Let’s get inside. Vivian is still weak.” Hearing that Vivian was weak, my mom immediately ushered her in, handing her a warm cup of ginger tea. I looked around the apartment, feeling completely disoriented. The wall where my academic certificates used to hang was now covered with Vivian and Ethan’s engagement photos. My carefully nurtured plants on the balcony had been replaced by wedding decorations. The fruit bowl on the table was filled with Vivian’s favorites, and even my old bedroom was cluttered with her things. This was no longer my home. I completely gave up. My home, my boyfriend, my parents—they all belonged to Vivian now. “Ethan, I can forgive Vivian. I can forgive you too.” “But I have one last request. I want you two to take me to the amusement park we were supposed to visit before the crash.” I had two days left before my flight to the UK. This was my final wish.

Under Vivian’s persuasion, we set off for the amusement park early the next morning. In the car, I stared out the window. Three years ago, on a sunny day just like this, we were driving to the park when a drunk driver swerved into our lane. To keep them from getting hit, I had steered hard to the right. Before I lost consciousness, Ethan and Vivian had risked their lives to drag me out of the burning car. Back then, Ethan had sobbed, “Chloe, I’ll do whatever it takes to save you. Please, don’t leave me.” But somewhere along the way, he had taken a detour. We arrived at the park. Ethan pushed my wheelchair in silence. Perhaps he was remembering that day too. I pulled up the itinerary I had made three years ago. “Let’s just follow this.” Though I couldn’t go on most of the rides, the classic photo spots were still there. I wrote on a wooden wishing plaque: [I wish for Chloe’s complete recovery and health.] It took me almost ten minutes just to scribble those few words with my shaky hands. “This stuff is fake anyway. Aren’t you asking for too much?” Ethan snatched it away impatiently, but he froze when he read the words. He hung it on the tree in silence. “That boyfriend is so dedicated. His girlfriend is sick, and he still brought her out to have fun.” Passersby whispered. Hearing this, Vivian’s eyes instantly welled with tears. Ethan immediately forgot about me and turned all his attention to comforting her. They didn’t notice when my eyes fell on a dangling plaque nearby. The handwriting belonged to Vivian: [Chloe, we came to the amusement park for you. Please bless Ethan and Vivian so we can be together forever.] A sharp pain pierced my heart. So, I was the only one who hadn’t actually been to this park. This trip for three had always been my own lonely solo show. I took out a pen and quietly scribbled a few words on the back of their plaque. The next few spots were strictly for couples. Without me saying a word, Ethan naturally bypassed them. I lost all interest. The place I had sacrificed so much to visit was actually so incredibly boring. Finally, we reached the last stop. It was a couple’s photo booth. Just as Ethan was about to walk past, a staff member came over holding a printed photo. “Mr. Hayes! Happy wedding! “You mentioned last time that you were marrying Miss Miller soon. Here’s a little wedding gift from me.” Ethan awkwardly took the photo. The smiles on their faces in the picture were blinding. They were so familiar with the staff. Who knew how many times they had been here without me? I let out a bitter laugh. “Let’s go. I want to go home.” “Chloe, that’s enough!” Vivian snatched the photo and ripped it to shreds. “I know you just want to make me feel guilty! Yes, Ethan and I came here before. I was wrong! I’m a terrible person, okay?” “But you had been in a coma for two years! Everyone said you were never waking up!” “I already agreed to back out. Why won’t you just let us go?” She cried hysterically, looking as if she might faint. Ethan immediately wrapped his arms around her, turning to yell at me. “So this was your plan all along? You knew we had been here, and you dragged us back just to guilt-trip me into marrying you faster?” “Chloe, I never realized you could be so manipulative and cruel.” “I honestly regret saving you. Why couldn’t you have just died in that hospital?” My heart seized violently. A wave of agonizing physical pain shot through my limbs. But he had already carried Vivian away, leaving me entirely alone in the crowd. Tears streamed down my face. I pulled out my phone and dialed Dr. Carter’s number. “Please send me to the UK.”

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Everyone knew I was the one chosen by old Mr. Arthur Sterling himself. Whoever married me would inherit the Sterling empire. At the engagement gala, wearing my custom-tailored designer gown, I was about to step onto the stage to announce the strategic marriage alliance between the Sterling and Vance families. But my fiancé, Julian Sterling, walked right into the spotlight, holding hands with my adopted sister, Chloe Vance. “Chloe and I are in love. She is the only woman I will ever marry.” “Aria is far too spoiled and willful. She doesn’t deserve to be Mrs. Sterling.” Just like that, my fiancé belonged to my adopted sister. Everyone in the room looked at me with either pity or mockery. But what Julian didn’t know was that the only reason his grandfather insisted on our marriage was that my mother is the sole heiress of the Thornes—an ultra-exclusive, secretive old-money dynasty. Eventually, I would return to the Thorne family to inherit their massive global empire. Since Julian made his choice, it was time to change the heir to the Sterling empire.

Julian tightly held Chloe’s hand, pulling her to stand in front of the crowd. Chloe let out a soft gasp, feigning an attempt to pull her hand back. “Julian, we can’t do this. Your grandfather arranged your marriage with Aria.” “You’re the only one I love, Chloe. I refuse to marry anyone else.” He locked fingers with her, looking directly at Arthur Sterling sitting in the VIP seat. “Grandfather, I’ve always loved Chloe. She is the only one I will marry.” The guests whispered, throwing pitiful and mocking glances my way. Everyone knew Julian and I grew up together, and that I was Arthur’s handpicked granddaughter-in-law. But now, Julian was slapping me in the face in front of the entire high society circle. Julian’s voice left no room for argument. “Aria and I might have grown up together, but I’ve only ever seen her as a sister. I have no romantic feelings for her.” “Chloe and I love each other. We’ve been together for a long time. In my heart, Chloe is my only wife. No other woman can take her place.” Julian’s parents, Richard and Beatrice, paled, nervously checking Arthur’s reaction. Julian wrapped his arm around Chloe’s waist and shot me a mocking look. “Aria, you know I don’t love you. You wouldn’t want to marry a man who doesn’t love you anyway, right?” “Besides, Chloe and I are already together. You can’t use Grandfather’s affection to tear us apart.” I glanced at them calmly, then bowed slightly to Arthur Sterling. “Arthur, since they love each other so much, I’ll step aside.” “I wish Chloe and Julian a lifetime of happiness.” Hearing my smooth resignation, a flash of annoyance crossed Julian’s face. But Chloe quickly clung to his arm. “Julian, your grandfather arranged your marriage with Aria. Will he be upset with us?” Julian patted Chloe’s hand reassuringly, speaking in a gentle, doting tone. “Don’t worry. Grandfather loves me the most. He won’t get mad at me over her.” “Besides, you’re the real daughter and future heir of the Vance family. This is still a union between our families. Why care about an outsider?” An outsider? Only my father and Arthur knew the truth about my identity. My mother was the sole heiress of the legendary Thorne dynasty. Back then, my parents’ marriage was purely a business alliance, and I was designated to inherit the Thorne empire, which is why I took my mother’s last name. On top of that, did Julian really think Chloe was my father’s biological daughter? Arthur Sterling frowned at Julian’s words. “Julian, stop playing around. Are you absolutely sure you want to marry Chloe?” Julian firmly slid the engagement ring onto Chloe’s finger and kissed her hand with dramatic devotion. “Grandfather, I’ve made up my mind. I will marry no one but Chloe.” Arthur looked at Julian with deep disappointment. If Julian had simply asked to change the bride beforehand, the old man might not have judged him so harshly. But choosing to humiliate me publicly in front of the entire elite class proved Julian was completely unreliable. “Fine. Have it your way.”

Now that Arthur had spoken, the tense crowd finally let out a breath. This engagement party had gathered the city’s most elite business moguls, and everyone was dying to see how this drama would unfold. Amidst the hushed whispers of the guests, Julian held Chloe’s hand and faced the crowd. “Thank you all for coming to celebrate my engagement to Chloe Vance today.” The guests exchanged looks, stunned that the Sterling and Vance families would pull off a last-minute bride swap right on stage. My father, Marcus, hadn’t expected this either. His face darkened instantly. I didn’t look great either, but I forced my spine straight, holding up my champagne glass to toast them under the scrutiny of the crowd. “Julian actually swapped his fiancée on the spot. He didn’t show Aria any respect at all.” “Didn’t Arthur insist on Aria being his granddaughter-in-law? Why did he agree to the swap?” “Getting swapped at your own engagement gala… how humiliating. I wonder what Aria did to make Julian reject her so publicly.” The whispers weren’t quiet. Marcus glared at Chloe, then turned to Julian with a cold expression. “Do you have any idea how much gossip your stunt is going to cause Aria?” “And you, Chloe. You’re old enough to think about the consequences. Are you trying to humiliate me?” Rebuked by Marcus, Chloe timidly tried to slip the ring off her finger to hand it to me. Arthur raised a hand to stop her. He patted my head with deep guilt and said warmly, “Aria, don’t worry. I will make this right for you. If you’re willing, there are several other fine young men in the Sterling family.” Julian’s parents heard this, but they assumed the old man was just comforting me, so they didn’t pay it much attention. But to their absolute shock, I pointed toward the corner of the room, right at the illegitimate Sterling son who was quietly watching the drama. “Actually, I’ve always had a crush on Luke. I hope you can bless our relationship, Arthur.” Everyone’s eyes darted to Luke, scanning back and forth between him and me. Luke was the illegitimate son of Julian’s late uncle. Ever since his father passed away, he had been ignored and mistreated by the family. But since he was still a Sterling, Arthur, wanting to avoid rumors that the family abused its own blood, had brought him in to raise him. Marcus looked at me in shock, whispering urgently in my ear. “Aria, I know you’re upset, but he’s just an illegitimate son. The Sterlings don’t care about him.” I casually swirled my champagne glass, raising it toward Luke. “It’s not his fault he was born illegitimate. I think he’s great, and I’d like to give it a shot.” Luke met my gaze with a lazy, amused smirk. “Since Miss Thorne likes me, let’s give it a shot.” The crowd’s glances became even more loaded with meaning. The news of the Sterling bride swap spread like wildfire through the elite circles. The moment the gala ended, I received a text from my mother. In a private lounge, my mother held me tightly, her eyes flashing with anger as she glared at Marcus. “Marcus Vance, how dare you let my daughter suffer such humiliation? Do you want to lose everything?” I squeezed her hand, steering the conversation back to business. “Arthur offered me a different partner. His name is Luke Sterling, and I actually like him.” Marcus wiped the sweat from his forehead and sighed. “He’s just an illegitimate son. He’s a complete outsider in the Sterling family. Why him?” Looking at my parents’ confused faces, I spoke calmly. “The marriage alliance was agreed upon by Arthur and Grandfather Thorne. I have to marry into the Sterling family regardless.” “Luke might be illegitimate, but he is by far the most capable man in the younger generation of Sterlings. From a business standpoint, he is the perfect partner.”

“Besides, since he’s an illegitimate son, marrying me means the Thorne family will be his ultimate backing in the Sterling empire. He will never mistreat me.” Meanwhile, Chloe became the most popular girl in high society. Everyone scrambled to kiss her feet. After all, with the Sterling and Vance families joining forces, any business that secured a partnership with them would skyrocket. I didn’t have time to deal with their petty games. I was overseas, focusing on the business expansion my mother had handed me. But when Arthur’s birthday came around, Chloe went out of her way to send me an invitation. She even called me several times, leaving me with no choice but to show up. The moment I stepped into the Sterling manor, all eyes fell on me. I didn’t show an ounce of awkwardness, smiling as I handed my gift to the butler. “Why is Aria Thorne here? Didn’t the engagement swap happen?” “Don’t you know? When Julian insisted on swapping brides, she got so mad she chose the family’s illegitimate son instead.” “Marrying an illegitimate son just to crawl into the Sterling family… Aria really has no shame.” Amidst the gossip, Chloe arrived, clinging tightly to Julian’s arm. Unlike her usual low-key and soft look, she was wearing a heavy, custom designer gown today, draped in loud, excessive diamond sets. It made her look incredibly tacky. When she saw me, she walked over with a fake, sweet smile, trying to grab my arm. “Aria! It’s so wonderful that we’re both marrying into the Sterling family. For the sake of our sisterly bond, I’ll make sure Julian gives your husband some career favors.” I almost laughed out loud. Even now, she still thought my ultimate goal was just to claw my way into the Sterling family. Julian thought so too. In his eyes, my desperation to marry into his family made me look pathetic. He glared at me like I was a piece of trash. Too lazy to deal with either of them, I turned to walk away, but my eyes caught the gem necklace around Chloe’s neck. It was the Sterling family heirloom necklace, which Arthur kept under lock and key. I was shocked to see it on Chloe. The Sterling heir hadn’t even been officially named yet. How did she get her hands on it? I pointed at the necklace, my gaze sharp. “Where did you get that necklace?” Julian looked guilty for a split second, while Chloe stroked the gems, putting on a victimized face. “Aria, I know this necklace was supposed to be yours. But I’m the one marrying Julian now, so of course it belongs to me.” Julian nodded righteously. In his head, he was already the guaranteed heir. Letting his fiancée wear the heirloom early was no big deal. “It’s my family’s heirloom. I can let whoever I want wear it. What does it have to do with you?” He sneered, looking me up and down before taking a step back in disgust. “Stop trying to use this to get my attention. I will never love you. Chloe is the only one in my heart.” Julian spoke loudly, drawing several sharp looks from the surrounding guests. “Aria Thorne always acted so high and mighty, but she’s actually trying to steal her sister’s fiancé.” “Those two are soulmates. Why is she still throwing herself at him?” Chloe blushed, playfully hitting Julian’s chest. “Don’t be so mean to Aria. Once she marries in, we’ll all be family. We should help them out.” Julian smirked, pinching Chloe’s cheek affectionately. “Fine, for your sake, I’ll let it slide. But Aria, if you ever try to make a move on me again, don’t blame me for being ruthless.” While they were busy flirting, a cold voice cut in from behind them. “Why on earth would my wife ever make a move on you? Julian, talking to your future sister-in-law like that is incredibly rude.”

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Everyone in our social circle laughed at me, calling me the most devoted substitute Ethan Vance ever had. I was at Ethan’s beck and call for five whole years before he finally agreed to marry me. But on the eve of our wedding, outside our new penthouse, I heard his heavy breathing mixed with another woman’s. I pushed the door open. Chloe Thorne’s face was flushed, while Ethan was calmly buttoning his shirt. He looked up, giving me a dismissive glance. “Don’t worry, the wedding is still on. You’re still going to be Mrs. Vance.” “It’s just a shame you look less and less like Clara these days. But Chloe… even her moans sound exactly like her.” I slapped him across the face, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Ethan, you are a monster!” The moment I ran out of his sight, I slowed my pace. I elegantly wiped the tears from my cheeks, pulled out my phone, and called Chloe. “Good job. That was a stellar performance.” “After five grueling years, it’s finally time to pull the net.” Ethan, you’ve had so many substitutes. Did no one ever tell you that Clara, your dead first love who drowned… had a younger sister who swore to make you pay in blood?

After hanging up with Chloe, my phone buzzed. Message after message from Ethan popped up on SnapChat: [I’m hungry. Come home and cook.] [Don’t make me wait.] My finger hovered over the screen for a second. Then, a cold sneer escaped my lips. For five years, Ethan had always been like this. He was so confident that I loved him to the point of madness, so sure I couldn’t survive without him, that he never gave a damn about my feelings. I lowered my head and replied in my usual submissive tone: “I… I’m on my way back.” “Your stomach has been acting up lately. I’ll make sure to prepare some light fruits for you first.” When I got back with the groceries, Ethan was lounging on the sofa, holding Chloe in his arms. Hearing me walk in, he didn’t even look up. “You’re back? Make some soup.” “After all these years, only your cooking tastes like Clara’s.” I nodded meekly, keeping my eyes downcast as I walked toward the kitchen. But before I could take another step, Chloe’s sweet, dripping voice sounded from behind me. “Ethan, I want to learn how to cook from Rainey. That way, we won’t have to bother her next time we’re having our intimate moments.” Hearing this, Ethan stroked Chloe’s hair affectionately. “Silly girl. Your hands are meant for playing the piano. They’re precious.” “But some people’s hands are born to cook and serve. Some people just don’t know their place. She practically begged to stay with me back then, and now she thinks because she’s becoming Mrs. Vance, she can show off.” He paused, then frowned and looked over at me. “Right, Rainey?” I knew Ethan was trying to humiliate me, punishing me for the slap I gave him earlier. I turned around immediately, putting on the terrified, eager-to-please face he loved so much. I looked at him with eyes full of desperate love, whispering with a crack in my voice: “I’m sorry, Ethan. I was out of line earlier. I shouldn’t have hit you.” I even took his hand and pressed it against my cheek, looking up at him like a beaten puppy. “You can slap me back. Just please don’t be angry with me, okay? I know I was wrong.” Ethan smiled, thoroughly satisfied with how hopelessly in love I looked. He stroked my face playfully before drawing his hand back. “Alright. At least you’re sensible.” Then he turned to Chloe. “Learn if you want.” “I have some business to take care of in the study. You two… play nice.” With that, he walked up to the second-floor study. The kitchen door closed. Chloe listened to make sure he was gone, then handed me a micro SD card from her pocket. With hesitation in her voice, she whispered: “Everything is in here.” “Are you really going to marry him? With the evidence we have, it’s enough to bring down the Vance family. You’ve endured five years. You don’t need to throw away your own life…” I clutched the SD card tightly, cutting her off. “No! I must marry him.” “I want to rip off his hypocritical mask at the altar! I want everyone in high society to see how rotten the Vance family really is!” “My sister Clara… will not die in vain!”

After getting the SD card, I prepared my counterattack. Naturally, I grew cold toward Ethan. I used “wedding prep” as an excuse to leave early and return late. When Ethan came home late, no one was waiting for him in the living room anymore. No hangover soup was warming on the stove. Even when we crossed paths, my smile lacked its usual warmth. He noticed. But he only thought it was another petty game to get his attention, so he didn’t care. Until one night, he tried to kiss me awake, and I turned my face away to avoid him. I closed my eyes and muttered sleepily: “Ethan, I’m too tired today.” Ethan’s expression shifted. He frowned, letting out a sharp sneer. “What a buzzkill.” But I kept my eyes shut, giving no reaction. Frustrated, he grabbed his coat, making a loud scene to get my attention. Before leaving, he said mockingly: “I’m going to Chloe’s.” “Don’t make breakfast tomorrow. I’m staying over.” He slammed the door hard. I opened my eyes slowly. Something felt off. Ethan never used to tell me where he was going. He never felt the need to report his whereabouts to me. While I was lost in thought, my phone buzzed with an encrypted message from Chloe on SnapChat: [He just called saying he missed me and is coming over. I’ll use being sick as an excuse to reject him.] A moment later, another text popped up. [Strange. He drank half a glass of whiskey, barely spoke, and left before I could even say no. Did you guys fight?] I paused, confused, and replied: [No. I just turned down his physical advances. He’s probably mad because I’ve been cold lately.] The “typing…” indicator on Chloe’s end stayed on for a long time. Finally, her message came through: [No wonder. He’s been distracted and moody around me lately. Rainey… I think Ethan might actually be in love with you.] Love? The word made me want to laugh out loud. How could a monster like Ethan Vance understand love? This was a man who stood by and watched his “first love” drown. I turned off my screen, ignoring her text. The next morning, as I was about to head out, the butler stopped me with a polite bow. “Ma’am, here is the invitation to the charity auction tonight.” “Mr. Vance requested your presence.” I took it without objection. He usually brought me to these high-society events, so it wasn’t surprising. But it was odd that he sent it through the butler without a call or text. He was probably still sulking. I didn’t care. That night, I went to the auction and headed straight for the front-row seat labeled “Mrs. Vance.” Just as I was about to sit down, a cold voice stopped me. “Rainey, that’s not your seat.” I turned around to see Ethan and Chloe arriving together. He pulled out the chair in front of me for Chloe with perfect gentlemanly grace. “Sit, Chloe.” Once they sat down, Ethan ignored me completely. I was left standing next to them like an unwanted prop. Whispers and jeers rose from the crowd around us. “Wow, Ethan has a new girl? Looks like Rainey’s five-year hustle didn’t secure her spot.” “She brought this on herself! I heard she started acting cold the moment he agreed to marry her. Just a toy who forgot her place.” “If this keeps up, the bride might change at the wedding in two days. She’s just a bedwarmer anyway.” I lowered my head, clenching my fists. Actually, it was a good reminder. The wedding was so close. I couldn’t let Ethan lose interest now. My act of “devotion” couldn’t slip. I looked up, throwing a pleading, tearful gaze at Ethan. Ethan stopped tapping his fingers on the armrest. He turned around, giving me a cool, calculating look. “Learned your lesson?”

I nodded meekly, keeping my head down. “Yes, Ethan. I was just stressed about the wedding…” He cut me off with an impatient wave of his hand. He turned to a nearby waiter. “Get her a chair. Standing there just embarrasses me!” Then he looked back at me. “I don’t have time for your excuses. You know I only like obedient women.” “Be quiet. The auction is starting.” I didn’t say another word and sat on the simple folding chair they brought, continuing to stare at him with longing. My devoted gaze cheered him up. He bid on item after item. The waiter brought the tray of won bids to Ethan. “Mr. Vance, where should we send these?” Ethan didn’t answer directly. He smoothed Chloe’s hair affectionately. “Send them to Miss Thorne’s apartment. Consider it a reward for being so good lately.” Chloe gasped, hugging him. “Ethan, you’re the best!” Ethan glanced at me, waiting for me to lose control. I didn’t disappoint him. I stood up, eyes red, and walked to him. “Ethan… what about me? Please don’t stop loving me.” He chuckled, pinching the back of my neck like I was a puppy. “What’s the rush? The best is saved for last.” I sat back down, seemingly mollified. When the final item, a magnificent diamond necklace symbolizing “Eternal Love,” came up, Ethan bid immediately before the starting price was even set. “Ten million dollars!” The crowd gasped. The auctioneer screamed, “Mr. Vance is incredibly generous! Who is the lucky lady destined for this necklace?” Believing his earlier hint, I stood up and walked to Ethan, eyes shining. “Thank you, Ethan. I knew you still cared…” “Who said this was for you?” Ethan interrupted, frowning. My smile froze. I paled, standing there like an idiot. Ethan walked past me, picked up the necklace, and put it on Chloe. “Chloe, only you can pull this off.” Snickers erupted into full-blown laughter at my expense. Humiliated, I burst into tears, covered my face, and ran out of the hall. Looking at my retreat, Chloe tapped Ethan’s chest. “Ethan, aren’t you being too mean to Rainey? What if she runs away?” Ethan laughed arrogantly. “Run? She would never.” “Everyone knows Rainey has no dignity when it comes to me. Even if I kicked her right now, she’d crawl back to my feet tomorrow morning.” Chloe’s smile stiffened with pity. Ethan asked, “What’s wrong? You usually hate her. Now you feel sorry for her?” Chloe pouted. “Of course not! I’m just worried your bride will run. Or… I could just marry you instead?” Ethan’s grip on Chloe’s waist tightened painfully. His eyes turned icy. “Chloe, don’t overstep. The title of Mrs. Vance belongs only to Rainey.” He patted her cheek. “Now, since you feel so ‘sorry’ for her, take the necklace off, find her, and give it to her. Tell her it’s from me. Then bring her back.” Chloe found me in the garden, my shoulders shaking in the shadows. “Rainey, call off the wedding,” she whispered, hugging me. “Don’t marry that scumbag. Don’t cry…” I turned around. There were no tears on my face. I was shaking with sheer, manic joy. “Chloe, you were right.” “Ethan… actually fell in love with me.” I leaned in, my eyes cold as ice. “Ethan Vance is finished.”

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I got pregnant before our wedding. I specifically warned Ethan that his friends weren’t allowed to play any stupid pranks at his bachelor party or on our big day. But on the day of the wedding, those frat bros of his splashed paint all over us. Shocked and furious, I lost my temper on the spot. Yet, to avoid offending his precious friends, Ethan turned around and started blaming me. “It’s just a joke, Chloe. Is it really that big of a deal? Just clean it up.” I took a deep breath, booked an appointment at the abortion clinic, and coldly shook off his hand. “This wedding is off!” After the unexpected pregnancy, Ethan rushed to propose to me. When our families sat down for dinner, his mother suddenly said, “Since she’s pregnant, we need to get married quickly. It’ll be inconvenient once her belly starts showing.” My mom obviously shared the same concern. She exchanged a look with me and nodded in agreement. Seeing my family relent, Mrs. Davis abruptly shifted the topic to a prenup. “Even though we’ll be one family after marriage, it’s still better to keep our finances separate.” I frowned, feeling a tight knot of frustration in my chest. My family wasn’t short on money, but being rushed into marriage just because of a pregnancy already made me uncomfortable. For a moment, the room fell dead silent. My mom sighed, trying to smooth things over. “We aren’t after your money. As long as Ethan treats my daughter well, nothing else matters.” I glanced at Ethan. After a moment of thought, for the sake of the baby, I chose to back down. The conversation then turned to the guest list. Thinking of Ethan’s core group of friends, my right eyelid began to twitch. “Ethan, you know I can’t stand people who don’t know their boundaries. Make sure your friends behave. I just want a simple, quiet wedding.” He smiled and pulled me into his arms. “Yes, yes, whatever my beautiful wife says. My boys aren’t that clueless. Don’t worry.” I didn’t say anything. On Ethan’s last birthday, his friends got dead drunk, trashed the VIP lounge at the bar, and left me to bail them out of the precinct at midnight. But since he repeatedly promised that the wedding would go smoothly, I finally nodded, letting my guard down. For this wedding, I ran myself ragged, personally handling everything from the photographers to the venue decor. The night before the wedding, I went over the schedule with Ethan one last time. Ethan suddenly mentioned he wanted to plan a surprise for me during the ceremony. Being naturally introverted, I rejected the idea immediately. I didn’t want to be put on display like a circus animal. Seeing that I disagreed, he went to my parents. My parents, who loved a lively atmosphere, persuaded me, “You only get married once, Chloe. You’re all young. A little fun is good.” Ethan promised me multiple times that it wouldn’t cross any lines. So, I compromised. Knowing I was getting married the next day, I couldn’t sleep at all. I ended up staying awake until 4:00 AM. I had hired the most expensive makeup artist in town, and the session took over two hours. But thinking that I was marrying the love of my life, no amount of exhaustion felt bitter. The makeup was perfect. I finally put on my custom wedding dress, which had been ordered six months ago. Before Ethan came to pick me up, I mentally rehearsed every possible mishap to prevent any chaos. But I never, in my wildest dreams, expected that the biggest disaster would come from Ethan’s own friends. At the venue, his group of friends swaggered in, looking rowdy. I thought they were going to cause trouble right away. But they just looked at me with smirks full of hidden meaning. Nothing happened even after we exchanged rings. I finally let out a small sigh of relief. But just as I was about to sit down and rest, Tyler, one of his friends, suddenly spoke up. “Hey, according to our college tradition, the bride has to feed the groom’s best buds cake. One bite for each of us, or you don’t get to leave!”

The guys exchanged glances and looked at me with creepy, knowing smiles. Thinking they were just joking, I forced down my disgust. “We grew up in the same town, Tyler. I’ve never heard of such a tradition.” I didn’t want to play along, so I turned to walk away. To my surprise, Ethan grabbed my hand. “Come on, Chloe, it’s just feeding them some cake. Everyone is watching.” Before he even finished, Tyler brought over a plate of cake, grinning like a fool. “Come on, Chloe! Don’t be a party pooper!” Ethan’s parents stood to the side, completely silent. His seven or eight friends watched me with mocking smiles. I took a deep breath. Not wanting to throw a tantrum on my wedding day, I suppressed my rage and began to feed them. Tyler opened his mouth with a suggestive expression and deliberately licked the fork. The next two guys did the exact same thing, making vulgar double entendres. “Wow, the cake Chloe feeds us tastes so much sweeter!” After saying that, they burst into loud, obnoxious laughter. I slammed the fork onto the table. “I’m done!” Everyone stared at each other in awkward silence. The atmosphere froze. I was burning with rage. Ethan’s mom squeezed out of the crowd, grabbing my hand to play peacemaker. “Chloe, sweetheart, don’t be mad. Everyone is waiting. You’ve already fed a few, so let’s call it a day. You guys, stop standing around! Did you really expect Chloe to feed every single one of you?” Ethan also walked over to apologize. “Chloe, it’s our wedding day. They were just trying to hype up the crowd. Please don’t be mad…” Seeing this, the friends walked over with fake smiles and offered half-hearted apologies. My parents sighed, stepping in to smooth things over, and gently patted my hand. Looking at Ethan standing next to me, for the first time, I wondered: “Is this marriage really worth it?” I was incredibly annoyed, but since I didn’t want to cause a scene, I gave a tense nod. However, I didn’t realize that my tolerance would only invite worse treatment. Ethan took my hand and led me toward the backyard garden. I noticed his friends suddenly getting excited, rushing to the front of the yard. My heart began to race. I turned to look at Ethan. His eyes were suddenly dodging mine. My heart sank, and I instinctively tried to stop walking. But it was too late. With a racing heart, I whispered fiercely to Ethan, “What the hell are your friends doing? Are they planning another stunt?” He stammered, “Don’t overthink it, Chloe. They know their limits.” Seeing him like this, a lump formed in my throat. I couldn’t understand why Ethan turned into a spineless coward the moment his friends were around. Before this, Ethan had been a decent boyfriend. He once drove sixty miles back and forth just because I said I wanted a specific cupcake. When my mom hurt her leg, he stayed up all night to find the best doctor for her. He would blush when I kissed his cheek, and he would get excited like a kid over a simple gift I bought him. Back then, I truly believed he was the one. But now, standing at our wedding venue, looking at his shifting, guilty eyes, I suddenly felt a wave of panic. He gave a fake cough to hide his nervousness. “Let’s go in. Everyone is waiting.” I pulled myself together, entering the yard with a heavy heart. Before I could even react, his friends suddenly marched toward us carrying buckets, triumph written all over their faces. From a distance, I smelled a horrible, chemical stench. In the next second, they lifted the buckets and splashed the contents right over Ethan and me.

What they threw at us was industrial paint! I screamed in pure rage, “Are you guys fucking insane?!” The custom wedding dress I had waited six months for, the makeup that took two hours—all of it was completely ruined! Yet, they showed absolutely no remorse. Instead, they held their stomachs and roared with laughter. “Hahaha! Look at Ethan! He looks like a drowned rat!” Ethan didn’t react with the anger I expected. Instead, he let out a weak, apologetic chuckle. I felt like someone was choking me. I couldn’t even scream. “Ethan! Do you not have a backbone? This is our wedding!” Ethan pulled my arm, winking at me desperately. “Chloe, it’s our wedding day. They just wanted to bring some good luck. It’ll wash off.” The paint on my body was smelly and sticky. The guests were looking at us with a mix of pity and amusement. The wedding I had dreamed of for years was utterly ruined. I felt like I was going to explode. I shrieked, “What do you mean ‘it’ll wash off’? They threw paint on us!” My parents’ faces turned pale. They pointed at the guys in anger. “What is the meaning of this? How could you ruin a wedding like this!” Tyler was still laughing, waving his hand dismissively. “Mr. and Mrs. Sarah, relax. It’s just a prank. It’s not like she only has one dress. She can just change.” “Ethan, buddy, we finally got you good today! Aren’t you thrilled?” I stared at Ethan. He looked incredibly pathetic, covered in wet paint. “Alright, alright, you guys had your fun. I’ll get you back when you get married!” Ethan had absolutely no intention of holding them accountable. His calmness made me look like the hysterical one. Tears welled up in my eyes, and my heart turned ice-cold. With red eyes, I demanded hoarsely, “Ethan, is this how you handle things? Do you really not care that our wedding is ruined?” “They need to give me an explanation! They need to apologize to me right now!” Losing my mind, I snatched a half-empty paint bucket from the ground and flung it right back at them. The guys ducked, still smirking. “Whoa, Chloe, don’t be so dramatic. It’s just a joke.” All the guests stopped talking, pulling out their phones to record the drama. My mom’s eyes were red as she stomped her foot. “What kind of nightmare is this?!” All my dignity was stripped away today! But Ethan frowned at me, looking at me as if I was the one being unreasonable. “Chloe, seriously? My friends just wanted to liven things up. Look around, everyone else is having a good time. You’re ruining the mood.” I stared at him. “I am asking you one last time. Are you going to make them apologize to me?” His usual smiling face finally hardened. “Chloe! Enough! They didn’t actually hurt you.” Seeing how relentless I was, Ethan’s mom also lost her patience. “Chloe, they were just having some harmless fun. All the guests are waiting for the reception.” I felt a deep, crushing disappointment. I hadn’t even officially joined their family, and they were already trying to put me in my place. I thought Ethan would at least stand by my side, but he couldn’t even comprehend why I was angry. Seeing me freeze in place, refusing to budge, Ethan’s face completely darkened. “Chloe, that’s enough! I’ll explain things to you after the reception. Don’t leave everyone hanging.” My mom wiped her tears next to me, whispering to ask what I wanted to do. My heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles. I remained silent. Mrs. Davis was now thoroughly annoyed. “Chloe, what on earth is wrong with you?” Ethan’s expression was incredibly tense. “Chloe, go clean yourself up. The dinner is starting soon.” Hundreds of guests stared at us, enjoying the free show. Ethan’s friends looked smug, whispering among themselves. “Man, your girl has a nasty temper. She’s going to be hard to control.” “Well, pregnant women are always hormonal! Ethan, what are you scared of? She’s carrying your kid, she has to marry you anyway. Why panic?” “Yeah, getting whipped by a pregnant chick? That’s embarrassing, bro!” They burst into another round of loud laughter. My mom’s face was incredibly grim. Concerned about the baby in my womb, she looked like she wanted to speak but held back. I looked around the room, finally locking eyes with Ethan’s impatient face. I let out a cold laugh. I took out my phone and, without a single shred of hesitation, booked an abortion appointment online. Then, I looked up at Ethan and forced a smile. “You know, I really wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.” Hearing this, he let out a sigh of relief and reached for my hand. “That’s more like it. Now, let’s quickly—” Before he could finish, I raised my hand and slapped him across the face with every ounce of my strength. “But now, I’d rather die!”

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